


If Snow White Had Meth On Tap

by Emono



Category: Actor RPF, Breaking Bad, Sons of Anarchy
Genre: All the Drugs, Anal Sex, Angst, Both fool around with girls but this is still a gay love story, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Dealing, Drug Use, Drugs, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, M/M, Oral Sex, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-06
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-14 19:20:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 68,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1277902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emono/pseuds/Emono
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Originally: "Two Bad Decisions Don't Divide To Cancel Out")</p><p>Jesse had a decent life. He cooked, he smoked, he sold - he went about his business like everyone else. A mysteriously foreign (and admittedly handsome) biker walked into his life and flipped it all upside down. He wasn't a cocksucker but something about the man made his stomach flip. To keep this guy in his life he's going to have to hide the meth, and soon he'll have to hide Mr. White too. Is Sebastian going to pull him out of the drug life, or is Jesse just going to drag the man down into the mud with  him?</p><p>It's a whirlwind of sex, love, drugs, and choices.</p><p>+</p><p>Watching seasons 1-3, did you want Jesse to be happy? Didn't you want someone hot and strong and amazing to come along and just...give him a good fuck and make him happy? Thus "Sebastian Kane" was born. This is a Breaking Bad/Sons of Anarchy crossover with Sebastian being an OMC biker. Don't knock it yet, try it. If you're looking for some good Jesse-involved man love, this is where to find it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome, Sebastian Kane

**You're here. That means you clicked on the link despite the OMC. I know, I know. It's hard to read. But trust me, I've done my best to make Sebastian as likeable and hot and easy-to-read as possible. He's very good for Jesse, I promise. Nothing but the best for our boy. It's honestly just Sebastian Stan but with a different last name and Irish roots. And don't be thrown off by the F/M, the boys just fool around with some girls and it doesn't mean anything. The scenes are very brief. I mean - a crossover between two fandoms that have nothing to do with each other and an original Sons of Anarchy character? That's crazy. It's insane. It won't work!**

**I did it.**

 

* * *

_This is the fucking love story that nobody expected or wanted. I didn't need this shit in my life. I was cooking, I was happy enough. I had no fucking clue what I was missing! And before you think I'm some kind of faggot, I don't fuck men. Just...just one. He's different, though! Don't fucking judge me! He just does these things to my head and the next thing I know – Listen, the point is: We're bad for each other. He hates meth, I hate bikers. We need to quit this shit and go our separate ways._

 

_If I ever prayed for anything, it would be that he never wises up and leaves._

 

*******

 

The bar was shady to start with. Heavy motorcycles were parked outside, and the crowd inside more than rough. Leather jackets swarmed around pool tables, thick mugs of beer in every other hand. They seemed to be all together. They smoked and laughed; they only seemed to speak in jest, about auto care, or in what sounded like code. It was just a side pub, nothing special in New Mexico. Cheap beer on tap, etchings in the cheap paint, just as dingy and comfortable as a man could ask for.

 

That, and their barman Geoff sold meth on the side.

 

Jesse slid the man a baggie under a folded a few ones, raising his eyebrows pointedly at the man. Geoff discreetly inspected it before sliding the money back, two twenties now hidden within the fold. It was his easiest deal all day, it always was. They didn't speak, they just did business. No knives – no chasing – no dark alleys. It was easy on his nerves.

 

“Hey,” Geoff's one word stopped him from turning tail and walking out of there, “Do you have any grass on you?”

 

“Oh,” Jesse dug in his jacket, sliding another baggie across the shining counter, “Here, man.”

 

“Thanks,” another small wad was put in his palm.

 

“No problem, man, I got you,” Jesse gave him a nod before getting off the stool, shoving his hands into his pockets before heading toward the door. He needed a smoke and a nap, it wasn't even noon yet.

 

By the exit were a few little machines down at knee level. The colors of the display had long since faded but they were easily recognizable from a distance. Gum balls, little toys, and one bigger globe held a multitude of bouncing balls. A kid had snuck in and was staring longing at the rubber toys, a boy no older than eight with the biggest doe eyes he'd ever seen.

  
Jesse tried to walk past him, he really did.

 

“Hey there,” he dropped down to one knee, smiling at the surprised boy, “Don't worry, I'm not here to yell at you. What's wrong down here? No money?”

 

The kid frowned, shaking his head.

 

“Don't worry, brat,” Jesse slid his hand into his pocket for just a second before waving it beside the kid's ear, “I think there might be somethin' right...about...oh yeah, right about _here_.”

 

Jesse flipped the quarter out in front of the boy's face, the scowl melting right off his tiny face.

 

“Thanks!” the boy cried, taking the coin and glancing at the machine, “But I need two, I think.”

 

“Hmm,” Jesse made a show of thinking as he fished all the change out of his pants and spilled them all into his cupped hands, holding them out in an offering, “Thank God you got all this, then.”

 

“Really?” he seemed more hesitant to take all of it, “For me?”

 

“Hey,” he looked him square in the eye, “What the hell am I going to use it for, huh? Go on, kid, it's all yours.”

 

The boy took the coins with a big _thank you_ and started pushing them into the machine as fast as his little fingers could, popping out one ball after another until he had six tucked into his shirt.

 

“Don't go chucking them at any cars, now!” Jesse called after the giggling boy, watching with a grin as he darted out of the pub and down the sidewalk, “Stupid kid. He's gonna give someone a black eye with those things.”

 

“That was cute.”

 

Jesse shot to his feet and looked around, eyes jumping from one person to the other to see who had been spying on him. There were a few bikers lined up at the bar, turned away and hunched over their drinks, but there was one at the end who was turned toward him. He had a leather vest over his oil-stained t-shirt, skin made paler by his pitch black hair and the dark stubble dusted across his chin and neck. There were patches on it, the one above his heart **Redwood** and below that **Original**. On the other side was **Road Captain** , and right below it was the cryptic statement **Men of Mayhem**. The dealer had never seen those words before, the gangs that usually hung around were milder and didn't have the maliciously styled patch on their backs. It was a dangerous looking reaper with some kind of rifle that morphed into a scythe. It made his skin crawl.

 

The man was leaning against the counter, eying him up with a lazy smile.

 

“You got something to say, man?” Jesse scowled.

 

“Maybe,” the man took a long swig off his bottle, “I saw you walk in here like you were going to shoot up the place and then you treated that kid like a little prince. It was sweet.”

 

The man spoke real well but there was an accent hidden under there, wrapped up in careful pronunciation and with a cadence just slow enough to give him away. He wasn't from around here that was for sure.

 

“Fuck off,” Jesse scoffed, that little voice in the back of his mind that he tended to ignore whispering that he should shut his mouth and walk away.

 

“Are you naturally that sweet?” the man pressed, blatantly running his eyes over the younger man's body, “Pretty boy like you – I bet older men give you nice things all the time.”

 

Jesse drew in on himself, hoping the low light hid the blush he could feel heating up his cheeks. Despite his talk he didn't get a lot of looks like that – the kind that burned paths down his flesh in the best way possible. People rarely looked at him for the simple joy of looking at him. It was the first time a guy had done it and he wasn't nearly as disgusted as he thought he should be.

 

 _Fuck that._ He shook off the sneaking arousal, refusing to admit he liked being so openly admired (even to himself). Nobody was gonna fuck with his head like this.

  
“Keep your shit to yourself, man,” he spat out, lip curled up in a challenge, “I'm not a fucking faggot, alright?”

 

The man pushed off the bar, rising to his full height (and, shit, he had a good three or four inches on him), “And if I call you pretty, I am?”

 

The blonde shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to come off defensive and bigger than he really was (he saw that shit on Discovery with animals and it was worth a try), “What's your name, yo?”

 

“Sebastian,” was the smooth reply, the name sounding almost exotic in this run down place.

 

“That's a prissy ass, faggot name if I've ever heard one,” Jesse swiped his thumb across his nose before he stuffed it back into his jacket, “Jeez, man, a name like that gets you beat up before you even get outta bed in the morning.”

 

“Listen, fuckhead,” another man got off his stool and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Sebastian, a distinctive stripe in his hair and tattoos on his head, “You drop that word one more time and I'm gonna beat you so bad you'll be pissing blood for a week.”

 

Jesse chewed nervously at the edge of his lip, eyes dancing between the two, “I don't want no trouble, yo.”

 

“Juice,” Sebastian held up a hand, the back of his knuckles brushing the broader man's chest. This 'Juice' looked like a real threat, his jaw hard and his arms thick with muscle. He had a leather vest on too, the same patches on it with the exemption of the **Road Captain** one. Maybe it was the tattoos but Jesse was pretty sure this one could beat the shit out of him before he could make a run for it. He looked fucking fast.

 

_That's it, dumbass, insult the dude just because you can't handle some gay shit and now you're gonna get your ass beat down. Way to fucking go._

 

“What? Seb, dude, you're gonna let this little shit talk to you this way?” Juice threw his hand at the dealer.

 

“I think I am, yeah,” the ravenette was still staring at the man, “He doesn't mean anything by it. I think I spooked him a little.”

 

“Fuck _that_ , man,” Juice turned toward the dealer and shoved a finger at him, “You watch your mouth.”

 

“Whatever,” Jesse muttered, though he was beyond thankful when the tattooed man backed off and headed toward the pool tables. He could still feel others staring, he'd caught their attention with his trash talk. He always seemed to back himself into corners like this.

 

“Sorry,” he found himself saying.

 

“Don't mention it. All is forgiven,” Sebastian waved his hand benevolently, “But only if you tell me your name.”

 

“Jesse.” He winced. Shit, he hadn't meant to say his real name.

 

Sebastian's eyes were still roaming over him, “Did your parents stop there?”

 

Jesse tisked, looking away to keep from doing anything else stupid, “They might as well have.”

 

The biker took a step forward and he did what anyone else would've done – he bolted.

 

*********

 

The alley was dark and filthy, too cliché for his taste. But these were the places the tweakers hid so it's where he had to do business. They crawled out of the cracks like mice, like cockroaches, all jonesing or a hit whether they had the money or not. Jesse was good at spotting the bottom feeders and the charity cases, he knew how to duck away and ignore them. His profit was modest enough, he didn't need to get turned over at knife point for what he had on him. Most of the people he dealt with were pretty chill but there were always some crazies milling about.

 

His current client was leaning against the wall, taking a taste of the bag he'd given him.

 

“This stuff ain't worth what you're peddling it for,” the old man grumbled, making a sour face.

 

“But I'm peddlin' it, ain't I?” Jesse threw his chin out, “Pay up.”

 

The man angrily slapped a couple bills into his hand, “That chili powder fucking burns. You need to cut with something cleaner.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” the blonde picked through the money, counting out each one carefully, “If wishes were fishes. You don't want it, don't buy it. But quit 'yer bitchin'.”

 

“Hey!” someone called down the alley. They both whipped their heads around to see who had found them but it was no cop. Just a tall man clad in a full leather jacket with a sure stride that struck fear through their spines, heavy boots clunking off cement. The man passed under the light, revealing a familiar shadowed jaw and nearly translucent skin.

 

“Motherfucker.”

 

Sebastian whistled sharply, “Why don't you piss off?”

 

His client started running, disappearing as quickly as the rat he'd compared people like him to. Jesse tried to make a getaway as well but the biker grabbed him by the edge of his coat and shoved him into the brick wall, the only thing stopping him from rasping against the stone was the trash that his ass bumped into. He braced himself for a serious ass-kicking, though he wasn't sure why.

 

“Jesse,” the older man was smiling, like he was happy to see him, “I've been looking for you.”

“Yeah?” Jesse glanced around the empty alley, looking for an exit, “Whatta want, man? I ain't got nothin' you want.”

 

“Of course you do,” Sebastian started to crowd in on him, blocking out the street light, “I've seen you selling on the streets. You take your work very seriously.”

 

“I, uh,” Jesse tried to scamper up the garbage can, a ridiculous image of himself Spiderman-ing up the wall and away crossing his mind, “I try.”

 

“You're not like the filth I usually see. You're different from those fucking meth dealers,” Sebastian made a grab for Jesse's belt and the younger man jumped, but the biker only chuckled like he found it all in good fun, “Usually the men selling are drawn thin with picked away skin, tossing their crystal around like it's straight from Heaven. It's nice to see honest business.”

 

Jesse felt panic spike through his heart. Wait – he didn't know he sold meth? What the fuck did he think he had? What kind of saint did he think he was? And worse than that – why did Jesse want it to be true? He wanted to toss his crystal and agree, spout off about shitty tweakers and maybe flex a little. This man wasn't anything special. Just some Joe off the street, good looking enough to pick up any chick he wanted. What the fuck was he doing out here in the middle of the night?

 

“What the fuck do you want, man?” Jesse found himself hissing out, confusion and frustration creating a friction in his gut that he didn't like.

 

“What else?” Sebastian flicked up to fingers, revealing two folded twenties, “I want to buy some of your pot. I assume it's the best.”

 

“You know what they say, man, assuming makes an ass out of – hey!” the biker leaned in even further, bracing his hand on the wall and getting much too close for comfort, “What the fuck, yo, back off!”

 

“Shh,” Sebastian reached behind him and knocked aside the trash can, using the space to pin the dealer against the wall with a short shove.

 

“Don't push me, asshole!” Jesse shouted, trying to get his footing again only to get laughed at and pinned again. This time a solid palm kept him there, the man's hand coming down from the wall to hold him tight. There was fear in his stomach, oh yes, but there was something else. The man smelled like engine grease and aftershave, there was no pretending this was a woman pushing her hips into his own.

 

“I'm not going to hurt you,” Sebastian promised, slowly sliding the money into the younger man's front jean pocket. He could feel the rasp of the edges against his skin and it made his thighs tense, like he was expecting a blow or a grope. Something – _anything_ – to break the tension building between them.

 

“I'm not suckin' your dick, dude,” Jesse couldn't believe how weak his protest sounded but he stood by it, “So if that's what you want you can just take that God damn money back and shove it up your ass.”

 

“Nothing as crude as that,” the dark haired man's hand skimmed across the line of his jeans, fingernail tapping against the button of his fly before he touched the line of his other pocket, “Is this where you keep it?”

 

“Don't fucking-!” Jesse cut himself off as the man dipped his head down, lips barely skimming his jaw as his thick fingers dipped into his pants. He froze up like a startled animal, remembering that he still had a single quarter of crystal mingling with the baggies of weed. He hadn't planned on selling any grass and now this guy (who he may or may not be having a crisis over) was fishing around in there.

 

_Shit! If he finds that meth I'm so fucked. He's gonna whoop my ass all over this fucking ally and-_

 

“Here we are,” Sebastian snagged one between his fingers, dragging it out. Jesse breathed a sigh of relief when he saw dark green instead of white. Not that it was any of this guy's fucking business about what he sold but he just didn't want to get a pounding this late at night. He'd seen too many other dealers get beaten half to death and left in the street just for _trying_ to sell, let alone lying about it.

 

The baggie was a nickel, just enough for a joint to smoke on the drive home.

 

“That's not worth this money, yo,” Jesse pressed himself harder into the wall, squeezing his fingers into his pocket to get the money back out. A hand laid over his, stopping him. He finally tilted his head back and looked straight in the older man's face, breath stuttering out of his chest as he finally saw his eyes. Sebastian's eyes were the color of pure ice, blue and clear. They looked ready cut into him.

 

“I guess I'll just have to get something else to make up for it,” Sebastian's hand curled around his wrist and squeezed, moving in for what he was sure would be a kiss. Jesse turned his head, avoiding it, though his lids drooped when the man's lips met his neck instead. There was a spark just under his skin, something that shot straight down into his lungs and made him gasp.

 

“I don't do that gay shit, man, cut it out.” But he didn't push him away and he couldn't look him in the face. He didn't want it, he _didn't_. So what if it felt good? It was just sensation. If he didn't look at the guy doing it, it didn't make him a faggot.

 

“You're surprisingly calm for someone who doesn't supposedly do it,” Sebastian was teasing him, warm breath washing across sensitive flesh, “Maybe...”

 

“There's no 'maybe', man, fuck off,” Jesse swiped away his arm and managed to step away, pulling his jacket closer around his soldiers, “I'm not gonna fuck you or whatever you're thinking about. I don't care if it's a bitch or not – I don't fuck for money.”

 

“I'm not asking for anything like that,” Sebastian tisked, “I just want something small. A kiss.”

 

“I'm not kissin' you, man, that's fuckin' gay.”

 

“How about I throw a fifty in?” Sebastian produced another bill from his jacket, “It's all yours for one little kiss. No one needs to know, no one's going to see you. You leave here with your reputation in tact.”

 

“And you?” he may have dragged his heels but he did get closer, that fifty calling to him like a siren song, “Whatta you get outta it?”

 

“A kiss from you, of course,” the biker waved the money, “Do we have a deal?”

 

Jesse came up to him with his head held high, keeping his chin raised up. He needed the money and it was just one kiss, right? A peck. Something he'd give his aunt (God rest her soul), or his grandmother. It wasn't like he was kissing a toad, either. The man was good looking enough for a dude. Jesse was comfortable enough with himself to admit that much. At least, he was pretty sure he was. This was nothing to have a fucking crisis over! He'd done worse than this for money. He'd sold shitty meth to people, stuff he knew would damn near kill them. He'd fucked married women and stolen from his parents. In the large scheme of things, kissing some scary ass biker dude in the middle of the night wasn't anything to get broken up about.

 

“One,” Jesse reinforced.

 

“One,” Sebastian promised, “But I get it my way.”

 

That made him stop, “What's that mean?”

“Just hold still and I'll do everything,” the dark haired man crooked a finger at him, “Just stay still.”

Jesse watched him get closer, one of the man's hands coming up to touch the side of his cheek, “Don't pull anything.”

 

Sebastian's smile was softer now, less like his toothy amused grin, “You can keep your eyes open if you want.”

 

A thumb hooked under his beanie, pulling it up just a scant inch. The biker brightened, looking for all the world as if he'd found the sun after rain or some other poetic shit.

 

“You're blonde,” Sebastian's thumb stroked through the lock of hair that had fallen free of the hat, “God, I bet you're pretty under all those layers. Thin and tight, svelte, like a lynx.”

 

“Don't you fuckin'...” it sounded empty, even to him. Thumb still pressed into his hair, the man's fingers curled just under his jaw. A curtain of dark lashes fell over those pure-ice eyes, but his own stayed open. He watched the man swoop in and the first touch of their moves made him jerk back, that same spark from earlier numbing his lips. It didn't discourage the older man, he only dragged him back until their mouths met.

 

Jesse stared, eyes wide and flicking all over the man's face. He looked so calm, like he did this every day. Like he just fucking paid guys for kisses all the time. It was disturbing and he felt an irrational itch go through his chest. Thinking about Sebastian feeling up another guy in an alley made him want to bolt. The kiss itself wasn't anything special. Just a press of lips, dry and slow with the hand on his face holding him still.

 

And then he pulled back.

 

“That's it?” Jesse blurted out, the voice of his conscious screaming at him to shut his mouth while he was ahead, “What the fuck was that? Fifty bucks for a middle school kiss?”

 

“Why, Jesse,” there was a pause the length of a full breath before he was grabbed by the shirt and flung into the wall, the man pressing flush up against him once more, “I didn't know you cared.”

 

“I don't,” he got out before his mouth was taken in a real kiss. The harshness of it bruised him. He sucked in a raspy breath through his nose as a warm wetness brushed over his lower lip. Despite his protests, he opened up for him. It was the first time he'd been on this end of a kiss, being plundered instead of doing the plundering. It felt like Sebastian was trying to get a complete taste of him and it was...it was a good change. Pale fingers dug up under the line of his hat and the pull of his roots sent tingles through his groin.

 

The biker's cock was hard, he could feel it against his thigh.

 

“The things I would do to you...” Sebastian muttered darkly, barely breaking contact. Before Jesse could pick the cotton out of his head and figure up a reply, the man drew away and swiped a thumb across his mouth. He looked pleased and it made the dealer want to punch him in his pretty face.

 

“You better get home, Jesse-boy,” Sebastian shot him a wink, “It's getting late.”

 

Jesse watched him leave, fists clenched painfully at his side as the man just _walked_ away like nothing had ever happened. He turned the corner of the alley and after a minute or two there was the roar of a motorcycle. The dealer put the back of his hand to his mouth and looked around worriedly, praying no one had been any of it. The place was quiet, like this corner of the world had been roped off for just this moment. He licked his lips and tasted cigarette smoke. That should _not_ have been hot.

 

He needed to get the fuck out of here.

 

*********

 

Jesse had had the girl before. She was wet from the promise of payment and he slid right in, no resistance. She was pretty enough with long, dry black hair and skin like milk chocolate. Her name was Sapphire and she always wore this deep blue lipstick to match her name, a signal to everyone she fucked that she didn't kiss. Except for the scratch marks down her arms from her nervous picking and the redness in her dark eyes, she was a pretty hot piece of tail.

 

Her price? A half bag of crank.

 

His pants were puddled on the floor along with his shoes, his jacket lying beside it. His hat and shirt had stayed, sweat starting to make them both cling and itch. This wasn't some loving tumble, he'd never had time for that. Sapphire had given him that smile, hiked up her skirt, and pulled down the prettiest little lace thong with all the grace of someone who had practice at it. She was on her hands and knees, the smooth expanse and curve of her back stretched out in front of him. He had a handful of her generous ass and the other on her shoulder, using it as leverage as he fucked into her hot body. She spread and moaned like it was the best she ever had but they both knew what this was.

 

He needed to fuck the straight back into him and she needed her fix.

 

Jesse screwed his eyes shut, trying to concentrate on how good she felt around his dick. She was always tight and it was why he always went to her. That, and she was clean.

 

“That's it, big boy, give it to me,” she tossed her head, long hair flying over her shoulder.

 

“You like that?” Jesse grunted, eyes still closed, “I'm getting' there, baby.”

 

“Yeah, Daddy, give me what you got.”

 

Jesse let go of her ass and swiped some sweat off his cheek, thumb brushing his lip. He was suddenly hit with the memory of lips on his, stubble and smoke-warm breath and a hard cock.

 

_No, wait, fuck!_

 

Jesse shook his head, trying to dislodge that. Sebastian had nothing to do with this. He was just some fucking biker with a hard-on for him and too much money on hand. With his stupid fucking jacket and his ghost skin and those pretty lips that had felt _so_ fucking good against his own. Who gave a shit if he was tall and had enough muscle to throw him around like he was nothing but a God damn sack of flour?

 

“ _The things I would do to you...”_

 

Jesse's eyes popped open, a moan bursting from his chest as his orgasm ran through him like a train. He spilled into the condom, rocking weakly into Sapphire's clenching cunt. The pleasure faded too fast for his liking and it put a scowl on his face. He pulled out as quickly as he could before backing up off the bed, snagging his underwear and yanking them on. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that Sapphire was fixing her clothes as well, though much more slowly. And what the fuck did she have to be ashamed of? She probably didn't get off to the thought of a guy pinning her against the wall.

 

“Thanks, S,” Jesse dug a bag out of his jacket and tossed it at her, a ruby-nailed hand snatching it mid-air, “Ace, as always.”

 

“I live to please,” Sapphire drawled, just the corner of her lipstick smudged, “You came a little fast, kid. What's up? Thinking of a special lady?”

“Shut up,” he dragged his jeans up his legs and belted them closed, ears burning.

 

“That's precious,” she flashed her teeth in a razor sharp grin, “The Captain's in love.”

 

*******

 

The moment he got home he threw everything in the wash, even his hat.

  
*******

 

Fuck that guy! Fuck Sebastian! That stupid asshat was in his head like some kind of termite. It seemed like every time he'd manage to forget about him, within the hour something would remind him again. Every cigarette reminded him of that stupid kiss. Even the food he bought was with that bastard's money. Fucking someone didn't kick him out of his head, selling didn't do it. That damn biker was driving him up the wall! He couldn't figure out his deal! What did he want?

 

It was time to seriously chill or he was going to go insane.

 

Jesse locked all the windows and pulled their curtains. The doors followed suit, their deadbolts sliding into place and their chains getting slipped. No one was getting in and he wasn't going to let himself get out, not with as high as he was planning on getting. After he'd locked down everything he could think of he plopped onto his couch, pulled out his best crystal, and started up a bowl.

 

It kicked and he could feel every muscle in his body relaxing. That familiar sense of completion melted his bones into sweet piles of goop that merely filled his limbs. He sank into the couch and cocked his head back, smoke pouring out of him as the ceiling came into hyper-focus before fizzing out.

 

Yes. This was what he needed all along. To smoke and sit and refuse to think about the biker's crooked smile. What kind of name was 'Sebastian' anyway? Only prissy prep school boys in golf caps and polo shirts could get away having names like that. It certainly didn't belong on a guy who tasted consonants like wine and wore the harsh colors of a local biker gang.

 

Jesse closed his eyes and mentally ticked off a to-do list.

 

Buy groceries, find out what the fuck a 'Road Captain' was, clean the toilet, put a feeler out on those 'Men of Mayhem', cook up a full pound before Monday, and-

 

“No, no,” Jesse dug a palm into his eyes, “Not that.”

 

He didn't need to know anything about Sebastian, let alone do research on his gang. That's all he needed was to get roped up with a bunch of bikers who could slit his throat without anyone asking questions. Jesse wasn't unknown on the streets but he wasn't important, he'd own up to that much. He slung crystal but he wasn't exactly the pillar of respect in the community. He barely had any favors left and the DEA seemed to always be a dozen feet away, sniffing around his lab or shaking down people he'd made deals with. Sometimes it felt like he was always running. He didn't need to get complicated with a frilly-named dude who had personal space issues.

 

Jesse took another hit, letting himself drift. He wasn't sure how long he sat there in his pool of thoughts about Sebastian and his game, about how he was going to have to move his lab soon if he wanted to stay on top of things. Eventually he noticed he was hard.

 

“Hey there,” Jesse smiled lazily down at the bulge in his pants. It wasn't rare that he got horny during a session. He knew a lot of guys who went limp on meth. Usually he was pretty relaxed but there were times when he tweaked, when a burst of nervous energy seemed to come from every breath he took and he was forced to move and find something to occupy his fingers. Eventually that tipped into paranoia and that wasn't a fun ride.

 

The blonde started to take off all his clothes, deciding that if he was going to jerk off he was going to do it right. He laid it all on the floor before sitting back down, stretching one arm behind him to hook over the back of the couch while the other slapped down onto his chest. He let his hand trail down his pec, gasping lightly as his fingers caught the hardening peaks of his nipples. It was a tease, just enough to get him going.

 

Not that he needed it – his cock was already awake, red and taunt up against his stomach. But he kept it slow, letting the drugs keep him dunked below his usual stream of thoughts. The world was rose colored and when he touched his dick it felt like those flowers bloomed behind his eyelids, a moan flowing through the room. He needed lube to make it slick but he didn't want to get up and get it from the bedroom. A heavy lick across his palm made the next touch that much sweeter, his hand gliding along the hard flesh.

 

Jesse's brows pinched together as his hand kept going down as if it had a mind of his own. His fingers curled carefully around his heavy sac, the rest of him shivering at the stimulation. He remembered Sapphire and the way her ass bounced with each thrust of his dick. The first question she always asked was if he wanted the honey pot or something dirty. He never did anal, he never had the time and it was always a big turn off for him.

 

Jesse got up on his knees and turned around, draping over the back of his couch. It left his bare back and ass exposed to the room but he didn't care. No one could see him and he was feeling too good to be ashamed. He parted his legs, resting his chin in the crook of one arm while the other reached behind him. His fingers brushed a cheek before they slid down to the crack of his ass, just touching the tight rim of his ass.

 

How would it feel? He imagined it would be like getting shoveled out, like being speared. Enough lube will fix anything but the pressure was probably overwhelming. What red-blooded male didn't at least think about being a chick? To get fucked, to be the center of attention during sex, to be the focus of someone's world for just a little while. He pressed a little harder, tensing up when it stung. Maybe just one finger – what could it hurt?

 

Feeling bold, Jesse pulled his hand back to suck down his middle finger. He stared down at nothing in particular, cruising on the high of the drug and pure instinct. He wouldn't feel anything until tomorrow so whatever damage he did would disappear with another hit of ice. Once he was sure it was wet enough he went back, the touch easier this time. His teeth clamped down on the meat of his forearm, digit sliding slow enough for him to feel it.

 

“Shit,” Jesse hissed, though it wasn't all unpleasant. The drugs dulled most of the pain and there was a certain fullness from the act that he didn't exactly dislike. It was different, though. When he'd been reading up on cancer and alternative treatments for his aunt, he'd done some basic research on the kinds of cancer he could potentially get. The prostate came up and he'd found out some positive stuff too, like how good it could feel when it was touched.

 

He searched for it, probing for something he wasn't even sure he would find. He grit his teeth and rubbed his forehead on his arm, pangs of pain turning his dick limp. Where the fuck was it? He pushed back and shoved in harder, whining pitifully in the back of his throat as an ache started to build up just behind his balls. How the fuck did gay guys do this? It fucking hurt!

 

Jesse was about to give up when the end of his finger grazed something hard, round like a marble or something. He spread his knees wider, thrusting out his ass to try and get a better angle. His cock swelled up against the couch cushion as he kept brushing against it, grinding on it greedily. Waves of pure heat rolled through him, mixing with the meth and giving him flight. Why hadn't he done this earlier? Shit, this was good.

 

“Fuck me, man,” he rasped out loud, slumping his weight into the couch so he could bring his other hand down to grab his cock. It was difficult to get a rhythm but he was already on the edge, he just needed a push. If only someone was here to do it for him, he would go off like a rocket if he didn't have to do so much work. But _God damn_ it felt too good to stop. Jerking off the regular way wouldn't do it now.

 

Maybe someone with thicker fingers. If one felt good, what would two or three be like? Someone who would have real lube and could maybe grab the back of his neck and hold him down a bit, just for a little while. Someone who would do all the work for him. Someone to make him feel good. The fantasy slipped over him, swallowing up the room and swamping it in sepia tones.

 

_Sebastian knelt behind him, lubed fingers running down his spine before circling around his hole. The man was grinning, fully clothed and in charge. He pushed two fingers into him, shushing him when he cried out._

 

Jesse moaned, giving a series of small gasps as he came across the back of his couch. He had to let go of his dick, it was intense and the feeling of his palm scraping over his head was too much. It lasted longer than any orgasm he had before. It set his belly alight, embers of content pleasure swimming through his veins.

 

He fell sideways, his head hitting the couch pillow and his body stretching out like a cat.

 

He didn't sleep, he could never sleep on crystal, but somehow he found rest.

 

*********

 

“It's like this,” Jesse sketched out the reaper patch from memory, frowning at how rough it looked, “It's pretty badass looking. Better than this.”

 

“Yeah, man, yeah,” Skinny Pete sniffed and wiped at his nose, nodding over the sketch, “I've seen them before. They operate out of this – like – huge mechanic shop in the middle of town. They fix bikes, cars, and do custom jobs to pimp your rides. Real cool shit comes out of there. They have the whole place fenced off and all the guys who work there are ripped as fuck, man. I think they own that place across the road from it too. It's got a security gate and I see those guys filin' in and out of there all the time.”

 

“I knew they were a biker gang, dumbass,” Jesse scrunched up the paper and tossed it in the back of the car, “Who and where is what I'm looking for.”

 

“Why?” Pete scratched at his neck thoughtfully, “Those dudes hate dudes like us. They're like _super_ against hard drugs. Back when you weren't around they used to run us all out, even killed a few distributors. Lately they've been pretty lax but they'll still beat your ass if they see even a glint of crystal on you. They're why you can't get heroin within forty miles.”

 

He eyed the blonde, “Does this have something to do with that Sebastian guy you had me ask about?”

 

“Shut up. And don't worry about me, man,” Jesse's thumb tapped a beat on the steering wheel, “So...where's it at exactly?”

 

*******

 

They had a good deal going, these 'Sons'. This Sam Crow business looked like a well-oiled machine from where he was standing. There was at least twenty of them at the compound at any given time, motorcycles coming and going at all hours. It seemed a very rare few were actually customers. Pete had been telling the truth, the guys in the signature cut-off vests were thick with muscle or just big guys in general. He was useless in a real fight so they all looked pretty intimidating to him.

 

Jesse leaned against the chain link fence, one arm braced over his head. He had gone through three cigarettes just watching, looking, observing. Another was between his fingers, finding its way to his mouth every couple seconds even if it was just too nervously tap on his lip. He didn't know what the fuck he was doing here. He had no right spying on this asshole, even if said asshole had technically followed him like a creeper to one of his own selling spots.

 

One which he would be pointedly avoiding for a while.

 

They had two open _actual_ garages and one was in perfect view. The door was pulled all the way up and three young guys were working on a car that was just too stubborn to let itself be fixed. Two of them had all but given up but one was sure of himself, practically carrying the others. The two were just boys, probably just out of high school looking to prove himself. The third...the third was why he was there.

 

Sebastian was just in this ratty old muscle shirt and jeans, pure oil spattered in hand prints across the clothing. It coated him all the way up to the elbows, only a few streaks of pale skin visible. There were hints of tattoos beneath the dirt but he couldn't make them out. He had been sweating and panting all morning, muscles flexing as he practically tore apart the engine single-handedly. He was on a break at the moment, standing in the noon-day sun with his face tilted up to greet it. A sweating bottle of beer was clutched in his hand, black tinging the label from his tainted grip. He looked tired but happy, completely at home among the filth.

 

Jesse dropped his bud and stubbed it out with the edge of his shoe, never looking away. From a subjective, totally non-gay standpoint the man was as handsome as someone could get. He remembered cool, edgy guys like that from high school. He'd always wanted to be one. He'd wanted to be tough, popular, so he'd thrown on baggy pants and started selling weed in hopes of getting some kind of street cred. Instead he'd gotten a reputation. He wasn't hot enough, he wasn't tall enough, he wasn't muscled enough – girls were always ready to tease him and the guys were always two steps from kicking his ass on principal.

 

Those pretty boys from high school grew up to be men like Sebastian. Comfortable in their own skin, as cool as snow but twice as untouchable.

 

Maybe that was all this was? Envy, maybe a little bit of hero worship? He would give anything to be in a family like this. All the guys seemed pretty comfortable with each other, even the grunts milling around. There was a lot of horsing around and laughter, music blaring from a couple different boom boxes. Smoking hot chicks clicked around in high heels to hand out chilled drinks or fawn over the men, running playful nails over their patches and teasing lines across necks or shoulders. It looked warm and inviting, like a home or some shit.

 

It was a sweet set-up.

 

“Hey, boy-o!”

 

Jesse jumped so hard he rattled the fence, the metal clanging loudly and bringing up memories of the school yard in elementary. A guy with a goatee, silver streaked hair, and a distinctive Chelsea grin carved into his cheeks was watching him. He wasn't the biggest guy but he looked battle-worn and he was coming straight at him.

 

“Whatcha doin' out here? Starin'?” that brogue dripped from his lips like poison honey, “Or spyin'?”

 

“No, man, no, never,” Jesse tried to explain himself, “I was just...uh, lookin', right? No harm in lookin'?”

 

“Depends what yer lookin' at,” the man's meaty hand shot out and grabbed a fistful of his shirt, “What _are_ you lookin' at?”

 

“Nothing, bro!” Jesse tried to pull away but the older man was strong, “I'm not doin' nothin', man, back up off me! You fuckin' Irish are always lookin' for a fight, huh?”

 

The dealer was thrown into the fence, the rattling echoing in his ears as the collar of his shirt bit into the back of his neck.

 

“I'm a Scot, lad,” his tone was low, like a dog's warning growl.

 

Jesse steeled himself, “You all look the same to me, leprechaun.”

 

“You little shit! Ya been hangin' around here all day, boy-o, and it can make a man curious,” he was seconds away from getting popped in the jaw, he could feel it, “You feelin' us out? You scoutin' us out? Who you workin' for? God help ya if yer sellin'!”

 

The man's fist cocked back and it was all over, except someone gave a shout. The Scot huffed and dropped his fist, but the younger was still stuck in place. He tried to duck away but he only got mashed against the chain-link for his trouble. Another guy was jogging toward them, one he easily recognized with his shaved down mo-hawk and tattoos.

 

“Juicy-boy,” the Scot kept his eyes squarely on Jesse and that scared him more than anything, “We're kinda busy here, so if you could bugger off...”

 

_Juice. Right. That guy Sebastian was talking to at the pub. Come on, shitty-named biker dude, get me out of this._

 

“Chibs,” Juice puffed, stopping to stand beside them and pushing his shades up onto his head, “That's Jesse.”

 

“Jesse?” this guy, _Chibs_ or whatever, slowly let go of his shirt, “This little punk? I was expectin'...hell, knowin' Seb, I don' know what I was expectin'.”

 

“That's right man, step back,” Jesse mouthed off when he was let go, “I wasn't even doin' nothin'.”

 

“Let's take him in,” a smirk came over Juice's face, “I mean, he came all this way, right? We should give him the tour.”

 

“What?” the blonde found himself blocked in, “Ya'll can't do this. It's – it’s harassment! It's kidnapping!”

 

They each grabbed one of his arms and almost lifted him up off his feet, dragging him toward the gate. He kicked and tried not to look like he was flailing, but there was no way he was going to topple over two six-foot-two-hundred-pound something men. The moment they passed into the compound, the air seemed to superheat. His lungs strained twice as hard to pant, his shoes digging grooves into the dirt and gravel as they 'lead' him to the garage. Had Sebastian told them about him? What had he said? Did he call him some little faggot? Did he say they fucked? Shit, biker guys were supposed to hate this gay shit.

 

Oh fuck.

 

What if they were gonna take him inside and beat him with a tire iron or something?

 

“Come on!” Jesse whined, giving another hard thrash that made Juice laugh, “Let me go! This is abduction, yo! You can't just pick a man up off the sidewalk! I got rights and shit!”

 

“A big gob this one's got,” Chibs griped, giving him a hard shake that made his teeth rattle, “Seb sure does pick 'em. I haven't liked the last three birds he's tangled with.”

 

“ 'Birds'?” Jesse echoed, glaring at the Scot, “Like 'bitches'? Fuck you, old man! I ain't no bitch! And I sure as hell ain't that bastard's _bird_.”

 

He realized how much attention he was catching from the others around the business and he snapped his jaw shut. No one looked even remotely interested in helping him. They looked more ready to help bury him.

 

The sun flicked out like a light as he was lead into the actual garage, only enough spilling in to show the way. They went right up to the car Sebastian had been working on, dropping him so they could both shove him in the shoulder. He stumbled over his own feet, hands catching the edge of the open hatch to keep himself from falling over. The two boys he'd been watching earlier were standing by one of the desks, trying to look as if they weren't eavesdropping on the exchange like everybody else.

 

“Seb?” Juice kicked the side of the car, speaking to the jean-clad legs sticking out from underneath it, “You've got a guest.”

 

“I'm almost done draining,” the man called, voice trickling through the insides of the car and coming out distorted, “Tell her to wait a moment.”

 

Jesse made a quick scramble but got pulled back by Juice's meaty hand, “Just jokin', man.”

 

Chibs blocked Jesse's exit, dark arms crossing over his broad chest, “Not real funny are ya, boy-o?”

 

Heavy boots braced on the ground and pulled their owner out, the creeper giving a low squeak as it rolled Sebastian into their line of view. The older man blinked dully at the three of them as he tried to get his bearings. There was a new smudge on his cheek, a murky brown that spread into his hair.

 

“Jesse?” Sebastian jumped to his feet, a big grin plastering across his face, “Jesse!”

 

“We found him skulking around outside, looked a wee shady to me. Like he was sellin' somethin' he shouldn't be,” Chibs gruffed out, “I'm thinkin' of kickin' his ass all the way down the street.”

 

“He says he wasn't here for any reason, like it was all one big coincidence,” Juice slapped a heavy arm onto the blonde's shoulders, “And since he was just admiring the shine on our bikes, we didn't think you'd have a problem seeing his face hit the pavement a few times.”

 

“You didn't come to see me?” Sebastian's grin fell like the pins holding it in place had fallen loose, “Then what are you doing here?”

 

_Shit. Shit. Think of something. Anything!_

 

Jesse's eyes unknowingly roamed across the man's fit form, wondering vaguely if he was pale everywhere.

 

_Anything but your weird gay crisis, moron!_

 

“I...”

 

“See?” Juice flashed his canines, “No good reason. We'll take care of it, Seb.”

 

“Wait!” Jesse threw the man off him, taking a few steps closer to Sebastian (and safety), “I...I actually did come to see you, man.”

 

The older man smiled again and it felt like a cool breeze of relief.

 

_Okay, keep it going. Just act like he's a chick._

 

“Yeah,” Jesse tried to play it cool, relaxing his shoulders and kind of picking his chin up like he did this kind of thing all the time, “You left so quick the other night that I, you know, forgot to give you my number.”

 

_Telling him some kind of fucked up version of the truth isn't exactly what I had in mind, but this is working._

 

“Really?” Sebastian looked almost too pleased to be skeptical, “I didn't think you'd want me to have it.”

 

“Of course I do,” he made an effort to fix his smile into something sweet, like what girls did to him, “You just kinda ran off on me. You can hurt a guy's feelings that way, ya know?”

 

“I didn't mean to.”

 

Oh fuck, what was he doing? What was this? Sebastian was moving in with dewy eyes, one blackened hand reaching up like it was going to cup his face. Jesse flinched and the man stopped, grease-slick palm just an inch from his face. The tender look on his face didn't retreat and he found his own heart picking up its pace, pleased by the turn of events.

 

“You didn't seem to want it,” Sebastian murmured honestly.

 

“I'm just playing hard to get,” Jesse held out his hand between them, “You got a phone?”

 

Sebastian fished it out and handed it over. The blonde kept his head down as he added himself as a contact, slowly tapping out ' **Jesse** ' and then his number. He could feel Juice and Chibs (what kind of fucking club were these guys with these stupid ass names?) staring holes into his head.

 

“There,” he handed it back, “That's all I wanted. Was kinda waitin' for you to get off work but these asshats decided I was up to no good.”

 

“Watch'yer mouth,” the old man drawled.

 

“He's yappy, like a dog,” Juice pointed out.

 

“He's sweet,” Sebastian countered, dropping a kiss on the blonde's cheek before he could think to dodge, “I'll call you later, okay?”

 

“Yeah, sure,” Jesse laughed a little nervously, “Don't make me come find you this time, yeah?”

 

The tender look was replaced by something hungrier, “Don't worry about that, _dragă_.”

 

A shiver ran through him.

 

“I'll just get outta your hair,” he thumbed behind him, “Unless ugly and uglier here want to carry me out on a stake or somethin'.”

 

“I'll walk you out,” Sebastian wiped his hands on a clean rag, revealing some of his skin. True to his word, the man walked with him back across the compound with almost every set of eyes fixed on them. It was starting to make him paranoid and he kept his hands buried in his jacket, trying to look as small as possible. It was like being on display, except his fellow subject didn't seem to mind the treatment. They got to the gate and Sebastian eased up until their elbows brushed, mouth tilted down toward his ear in a conspiratorial whisper.

 

“You shouldn't bait my brothers like that. It's not very polite.”

“Those dudes are your brothers?” he was itching for a cigarette, “I think your momma has some explainin' to do.”

 

“Blood brothers bound by the road and the reaper; it's all the same,” Sebastian shrugged like it wasn't a big deal, “They don't like strangers hanging around and I've barely spoken about you. I thought you never wanted to look at me again so I didn't tell them I was expecting you.”

 

“I didn't exactly plan this or anything,” Jesse huffed, looking up at him defiantly, “Motherfuckers just grabbed me. They almost busted my face open!”

 

“And I'm sorry about that,” a greasy thumb touched the bottom of his chin, “It'll be different in the future. Though you'd help your cause if you didn't 'skulk' about our garage.”

  
“It's a free country,” he scanned his face, looking for any hint of malice, “Unlike whatever backward-ass place you came from.”

  
“Perceptive little brat, aren't you?” Sebastian needled, “Pretty and smart. I like that.”

 

“You're crazy.”

 

Even free to back up, he didn't.

 

“Next time, we can go in the clubhouse,” Sebastian glanced toward the house across the street, the one Skinny Pete had talked about, “I can show you a good time while I'm not working.”

 

“Next time?” Jesse scoffed, “There isn't going to be a next time. I'm not comin' back here if I can help it. This scene is too rough for me, yo. You guys are crazy violent.”

 

The older man's expression fell. “I hope I can change that opinion in the future.”

 

“Fat chance,” Jesse flicked a good-bye salute at him before he turned away, “See ya.”

 

He wasn't even all the way down the sidewalk before he remembered that he'd just set up a date with that crazy-ass biker to save his skin.

 

*********

 

_A week later_

 

Jesse was crushing up the pseudo and jamming. His head bobbed to the base and his lips silently wrapped around the quick-spit words, the lights of the rented house falling perfectly upon the table they'd set up. Emilio was out getting food. They'd been tweaking for about – _check the clock, always check the clock, don't lose time_ – six hours now and they were working on their second batch. The iPod on the counter flipped to the next song and in those few moments of silence he realized his phone was buzzing.

 

Cursing a blue streak, Jesse got up and went to it. There was a text there that only read of a simple address and the signature _Seb_.

 

“Seb?” he questioned out loud before he smacked himself in the forehead, “Fuck!”

 

He plopped onto the couch. His eyes stayed fixated on the screen. He needed to weigh his options. He had to treat this like any other problem. Thinking on it, there were really only two choices in front of him.

 

1.) Blow Sebastian ( _Seb_ , that was so much easier to remember when he was this high) off and just forget about that easy fifty dollar bill and what he had to do for it.

 

2.) Go to this address, pray he doesn't get shot or drugged up, and tell Seb the truth. _'I don't like you like that, man. I just didn't want to get whooped by those biker guys. You were a cover.'_

 

Jesse winced, fingers tapping nervously along the edge of the cell case. Maybe he should strike that last part, it sounded way too harsh. Even high, he couldn't be that mean to someone.

 

“ _God, I bet you're pretty under all those layers. Thin and tight, svelte, like a lynx.”_

 

He laid his head back, touching the phone to the chest.

 

What if...?

 

No. No fucking way.

 

But...if he couldn't be honest with himself, who could he be honest with?

 

Okay.

 

Jesse sat up, elbowed braced on his knees and cell cradled between his palms. Real Talk, big-boy pants time. Were those really his only options he had? Ignore him or tell him to fuck off? There was another he wasn't considering, one that made his stomach sick. What if he went there and kind of just felt it out? Saw how things went?

 

The thought freaked him out so bad he nearly tumbled off his chair to get to his pipe. He wasn't nearly high enough for this.

 

*********

 

The street was pretty well-lit, there wasn't a lot of shadows to hide here.

 

Jesse had gone through two cigarettes before he'd switched to something stronger. His nerves were blanketed now, swamped under a layer of tough persona and mild determination. He didn't know what the fuck he was doing here. He'd originally gone with option one but he'd still gotten in the car and followed the shitty Google maps directions he'd printed off. It wasn't like he had a plan or anything. Sitting outside Sebastian's apartment building with a small buzz and the first stirs of arousal in his loins was apparently his loose interpretation of option two.

 

Instead of making a decision like a man, he'd done his usual creeper/stalker routine and he'd been watching the street for the past half hour. The only thing he'd found of interest was a Harley Davidson outside, both wheels locked. It was a nice piece, black as tar with a shining silver stripe on each side. There were a few symbols painted on it that matched those that made up the patch on the man's leather jacket. This was dangerous shit he was getting into. A dealer getting tangled up with a well-known bitter gang who hated hard drugs. Maybe the Sons weren't clean-handed, but those hands were fists.

 

“Fuck this,” Jesse coughed around a mouthful of smoke, stubbing the bud out in his ashtray. He got out, locked his baby up, and left her behind. He made a beeline for the door, almost turning back when he saw the row of tenant buzzers. Even with the place well taken care of and clean, buzzers like that screamed sleazy. He'd been in some shady-ass places that looked like this. Correction: He'd been _attacked_ in some shady ass places that started out looking like this. He scanned the names and numbers, looking for one to match the text. Two seventeen. _Kane_. Sebastian Kane. No, no way. He couldn't do this. Those buttons were giving him the evil eye and he wasn't going to take the bait.

 

“Excuse me,” a woman politely waited behind him, clearing her throat.

 

“Oh,” he moved to the side, a little flustered by her steady stare, “Sorry. My bad.”

 

“Thank you,” she blocked the panel as she punched in the security code, ducking inside when the light turned green. There were a few precious seconds where the door hung open, exposing the hallway. It was _literally_ an open opportunity, and it was closing. He stuck his foot out, letting out a heavy sigh before easing in as casually as he could manage. The building was warmly lit and carpeted. He almost felt bad tracking his filthy shoes across it.

 

Second floor. Okay, maybe he _could_ do this.

 

It was an easy climb though his mind was whirring as he thought of what to say. Maybe something that didn't make him sound like a dick. He was stuttering between running and dragging his feet so much that he probably looked like he was on something. Well, he was, but it was just a little weed. Sebastian had never specified what time, or what day. Arriving two days after a text because he was too scared to reply wasn't really announcing an arrival.

 

Before he'd even come up with a string of words, the door was looming before him. The number _217_ was a shined silver that gleamed in the light, the wood around it painted a plain cream. It was the least and most intimidating thing he'd ever seen. He raised his fist twice before he nutted up and just knocked. His toes flexed in his shoes, desperate to bolt, but he stuck his ground. It took a minute but eventually the deadbolt clacked, a chain rattled, and it sounded like three other locks clicked. There was a peep hole and he could've sworn he saw the light behind it flicker, like someone was looking.

 

_Shit, man, talk about security._

 

Sebastian pulled open the door and stood there, beaming like a child. He looked relaxed as fuck, grey sweat pants hanging low on his hips and a ratty tank clinging to his chest. He didn't believe in sleeves, apparently. There were tattoos across his skin that he hadn't noticed them before. They were reapers and Celtic crosses and wings painted across ivory flesh, words in what may or may not have been English showed weaving in and out of clothing. How had he missed all this? It was art, done with ten times the skill of the man who had done Jesse's own. The man was flushed, adding a rosy glow to his collarbone and cheeks.

 

Fuck! Fine! He'd admit it. Sebastian was handsome. Jesus Christ – was he carved out of stone or something?

 

“Jesse,” there he went again, breathing out his name like he was being blessed.

 

“Uh. Hey.”

 

“There you are!” Sebastian moved quick, swooping him up in his arms and into a hug. The blonde squeaked, unable to stop him. The man was even stronger than he looked. His arms weren't as big as some of those other bikers but he was solid, roped thick underneath all that delicate looking skin.

 

“Shit, man-”

 

Sebastian swiped his heel at the door, slamming it shut and pushing the blonde up against it. Jesse was kissed just as swiftly, thoughts blinking out as teeth scraped over his lower lip. He gasped, opening his mouth for an insistent tongue that didn't give him a chance to refuse. The man's leg wedged between his own, his feet arching up to support his weight. A hand started to curl around the side of his neck and in his belt, the move suggestive enough to shock him out of whatever spell he'd fallen under.  
  
“Stop,” he hated how small his voice was, “Stop, dude.”

 

“Sorry,” Sebastian pried himself away, teeth catching his lips, “I got carried away for a second.”

 

“Hell yeah you did,” Jesse panted, fixing his coat, “Don't fuck with the merchandise, man.”

 

“Of course,” the man looked so understanding that it made him want to drop his guard, “Come in, get comfortable. Let me lock this.”

 

Jesse moved farther into the apartment, taking it all in. There were a couple bookshelves that were overflowing with papers, maps, books, all just spilling or stacking up against the wall. He had plush leather furniture that looked like butter felt. A flat screen was mounted on the wall, three times the size of his own and bordered by speakers. _CSI_ was on, the colors popping even though the sound was low. He had all the good shit, even a stereo that he could tell was kickass from across the room. Everything else was in shades of grey and blue, giving the room a relaxed atmosphere. It opened up to a hallway that led to the rest of the place.

 

A silver coffee table made a centerpiece for the large couch and three chairs, and on top of it was a still-smoking bong with a sizeable bag of pot next to it.

 

“Yo, you sure do like your grass, huh?” Jesse tried to tease, “Is that good stuff?”

 

“The best I can get my hands on,” Sebastian sauntered over walked over, and upon a second look he found his eyes weren't even bloodshot, “It's high grade. I'm more than willing to share.”

“I don't really smoke with strangers,” Jesse eyed the tempting bong.

 

“Mm-hmm,” Sebastian rubbed a hand over his stubbled chin, “So smoking before you came up is acceptable?”

 

Jesse ran his tongue over his teeth.

 

“I could taste it in you, _dragă._ ” And there was that accent again. It was throaty and it dipped right through that careful American demeanor.

 

“I saw 'Kane' on the nameplate,” Jesse tried to change the subject, “That's pure Irish or something, isn't it? What kind of mutt are you?”

 

Sebastian laughed through his teeth, “I'll tell you my story when we're not strangers anymore. Does that sound fair?”

 

“Enough,” Jesse shifted nervously, “Speaking of 'fair' and all, I think I should tell you something.”

 

“What?”

“About all this…?” Jesse as already regretting this, “I only gave you my number to get out of a beat down, man.”

 

“Oh,” Sebastian sat down on the edge of an armchair, “Why would you do that?”

 

“I panicked,” Jesse admitted miserably, “They were being dicks and you looked so – I dunno, okay? It was the first thing I thought of!”

 

“You didn’t have to do that. I wouldn’t have let them hurt you.”

 

That dealer faltered. “You…you wouldn’t?”

 

“Of course not,” Seb’s lips pursed like he was trying to hold back anger, “Do you think that of me? That I would let them go through with their threats?”

 

“Well, kinda. Yeah.”

 

“So you lead them to believe we slept together so you wouldn’t get hurt?”

 

“That’s what I’m sayin’, yo,” Jesse’s hands flapped in his jacket pockets, “It worked, didn’t it? I just thought that if _they_ thought I was your bitch, then I would be… _off limits_ , or whatever. I assume that’s how you biker boys roll, right? Your women are off limits?”

 

“Of course,” he replied quickly.

 

“Then there you go!”

 

Sebastian look defeated, the perfect picture of the proverbial kicked puppy.

 

“Yo, I’m sorry,” Jesse stated softly, “I was just thinkin’ of myself. Your friends have big fists.”

 

“That they do,” the intended humor didn’t quite make it into his voice, “I have a question.”

 

He glanced at the door, “Shoot.”

 

“Why were you actually there?”

 

It felt like someone pulled all the plugs connection his brain to his mouth. “What?”

 

“It wasn’t a coincidence.” There was nothing short of absolute certainty in his voice. “You weren’t there for the bikes. Chibs said you’d been standing there for more than an hour. You weren’t there to spy because you’re not involved in any of our rival gangs. They wouldn’t take a pretty boy like you in even if you paid them. So I have to ask – why were you there?”

 

“Man! That’s none of your God damn business! Maybe I do like bikes, huh? Maybe I was sellin’? Maybe I was checkin’ out all the fine bitches y’all have prancing around out there! And even if it wasn’t any of that shit, it’s _still_ none of your fucking concern!”

 

“And why’s that?”

 

The older man’s cool demeanor pissed him off even more.

 

“Because ‘we’?” Jesse gestured between them, “Have got nothin’ to do with each other. We’re complete opposites and we don’t have no business even being in the same room with each other. People like us don’t…we don’t do no good to each other.”

 

Sebastian just stared at him with a heavily implied, _So?_

 

“You’re so fuckin’ weird, man.”

 

“Me?” the older man chuckled lightly, “You’re the one who tracked down a man you don’t believe you should be around.”

 

“Wish I hadn’t now.”

 

The man’s posture changed from lounging housecat to a panther’s crouch, as if he’d been offended, “You know what kind of club we are, don’t you?”

“ ‘Club’ is a nice word. I’d go with ‘gang’,” Jesse bristled, “From what I’ve heard on the streets, you’re dangerous. I may sell drugs, but at least I don’t run guns. That shit’s not worth it.”

“It’s a very clean business,” Sebastian rectified.

 

“Bullshit!” he spat, “It’s a bloody business, is what it is! That shop’s just a front! I’ve got feelers out on the streets, man, and they told me all about the ‘protection of the city’ crap. How you beat guys to pulp, how no one can leave your group without getting all their tattoos filled in or some shit.”

 

“You forget my favorite part,” there wasn’t a speck of warmth in those words, “We keep hard drugs off the streets.”

 

“Not lately, from what I heard,” Jesse smirked, feeling like he’d one-upped the man, “Apparently you guys are all wrapped up with some ugly cartel business. Stuff you don’t usually get away with. You’re waging war out there, yo, and I don’t want no part of it.”

 

Sebastian rolled his shoulders and neck, stretching the tension out of his muscles like a snake. Reptile, feline – this man was a predator and he’d walked right into his lair, locks and all. It made his heart pick up a runner’s pace but he wasn’t sure if it was from fear or excitement. Either way, it made the blood rush straight to his dick.

 

“None of that is important,” Sebastian finally said, “Though I would still like to know why you sought out such a _criminal_.”

 

“Yo, why the fuck do you have to keep going back to that?” Jesse rubbed a hand over his beanie, trying to stay calm and losing, “You wanna know the truth?”

 

“I really do.”

 

“Fine,” he dropped his hands, letting them ball into fists, “I don't know. I had one of my guys dig up everything he could find out about you and without a last name he got jack shit. So I asked him about that crest on your jacket and he told me about your Sam Crow group or whatever. I went there and looked for you but I wasn't goin' to go up to you and I did all that because I don't know why! I _don't know_. I've got nothin' to tell you because I've got nothin' to tell myself.”

 

Sebastian's mouth fell open a little, the first real sign of shock he'd ever shown.

 

“I hate you, you know that?” Jesse knew he was being spiteful but his heart felt pricked in a way he'd never felt before, “I can't do anything without...just... _fuck_ , man.”

 

_Every time I jerk off your face pops up in my head and that's fucking gay and stupid._

 

“You're fucked up, dude,” he finally sighed out, “And I think you made me fucked up too.”

 

They stood there, one man leaning against a chair while the other shifted his weight around uncomfortably from foot to foot.

 

“I have a proposition for you,” Sebastian pushed off the leather seat, rising to his full impressive height, “Feel free to say no and leave, but at least hear me out.”

 

“What are you going to do to me if I don't?”

 

The older man threw out his hands, “According to your 'sources', I'm a monster and I'll simply grind your bones into dust and use your blood to make it a paste to bake my bread.”

 

“That's ogres.” He watched _Shrek_ , he knew stuff. “Well, giants, I guess.”

“Ah!” Sebastian tisked loudly, “That's Shakespeare, love.”

 

Jesse felt a shiver go up his spine, “Don't call me that.”

 

“Fair enough,” those hands raised up palms out, a gesture of surrender, “Are you going to listen?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“I would like you to stay the night,” Sebastian approached slowly, as if he didn't want to startle him, “We can watch TV, smoke, order some take-out. I've got enough beer for a small army. We don't do anything. I...control myself a little better. I won't grab on you again.”

“What? You mean like, just, hang out?” Jesse was already warming up to the idea, “You don't do anything weird?”

 

“Nothing,” Sebastian promised, “If you're willing to get comfortable, I'd like to show you that we're not as completely different as you believe we are. In the morning we'll find out if the world ended because a drug dealer and a biker spent the night together.”

 

Jesse felt a creep of shame work its way up his cheeks, “That stuff I said...I meant it, but not how it sounded.”

 

“I know,” Sebastian nodded toward the couch, “What do you say? Do you want to sit down and find something for us to watch? Or would you like to me to walk you to the door?”

 

Jesse chewed on his top lip for a moment, a weight lifting off his shoulders as he made a decision, “Whatch'you got on there?”

 

“Everything,” Sebastian's smile came back and it was like the clouds broke free for the sun, “I have the best box you can get this side of this God forsaken desert. Flip through it. I'll grab the beer.”

 

“And you're paying for the pizza.”

 

“Of course,” the older man shot over his shoulder as he headed down the hall, disappearing into a room he assumed was the kitchen, “But I pick the toppings!”  
  
“That's crap!” Jesse found himself laughing for the first time in hours as he kicked off his shoes, falling into the couch and snatching up the remote in one graceless motion, “Let's see what it's got.”

 

*******

 

It started off awkwardly enough. They mildly fought over a channel to watch until Jesse flicked across a TV show he hadn't seen in way too long. He used to watch _Numb3rs_ all the time with his aunt, she'd always commented about how the younger brother on the show was the cutest little Indian poodle she'd ever seen. He settled on it with a fond smile, lost in the memory of how content he'd been to sit around in Ginny's house with her while she'd fought for her life.

 

“You watch this?”

 

Jesse sat up, thumb already flipping through the guide, “So what? One procedural cop show is as good as any other.”

 

“No, turn it back,” Sebastian protested, phone cradled to his ear as he waited for the pizza place to pick up, “I like that one. I'm decent enough at math and I'd like to think some of it will be useful to use later on.”

 

“You wanna kill someone with math?” Jesse teased, going back until he found it again, “Why do that when you have that bike out there to ram into them with?”

 

“That bike is not for murdering,” Sebastian hummed, a lazy smile curling his lips as someone answered, “Jake, is that you? It's Seb. Tell me you're still making pizza? Yes, I know what time it is. I'm also sure you owe me a favor. Listen, Amber doesn't come cheap and she hangs off my every word. You've got a date with her this weekend? Would you like to keep it? Then do this for me. Come on, we're friends. Friends threaten each other every day.”

 

The dark haired man paused as he listened, “You're a good man. Here's what I want...”

 

*******

 

Later on, Jesse would be surprised at how easily they fell in together like old friends. But by the time he would think about that, it would already be way too late to do anything about it.

 

The beer went down smooth and the food was delicious. He bitched for at least ten minutes about how he couldn't get pie this good in broad daylight on the main street. They ate like they'd never seen food before, tongues getting burnt on melted cheese like they didn't give a fuck. They argued loudly over whether or not someone like Charlie Eppes could actually do the things the character did. Though Jesse had barely passed Algebra II, he went on like he'd gone to MIT or something just to try and sound intelligent.

 

If Sebastian didn't always come off so sure and smart, he wouldn't have given two fucks and wouldn't have tried. But being around the biker made him want to be better for some reason.

 

Once their bellies were full, Sebastian asked if he could light up. Jesse watched with rapt attention as the man brought the bong into his lap, red-blown glass bottom settling comfortably in the cross of his legs. He cradled its curves with those large hands as he carefully packed the bowl and lit it, mouth fitting perfectly in the opening as he started it up. He ran the water pipe like one of those Harvey Davidson and made it purr, thick coils of pearly smoke coaxed up into awaiting lungs. The older man's face was nothing short of blissful as he pulled away, palm covering the lip to keep the clouds inside the pipe. Half a dozen heartbeats went by before he let it out.

 

It looked prime and his mouth watered up.

 

“Yo, Sebastian...”

 

“ 'Seb',” the dark haired man's eyes were still closed, savoring it like good food, “If you don't mind. I'd like us to not be so formal.”

 

“Alright, _Seb_ ,” he put emphasis on the nickname, “You still willing to share?”

 

Raven lashes lifted to reveal an inquiring gaze, “Have you changed your rule on smoking with strangers?”

 

“You bought me pizza, you're not a stranger,” Jesse reached for the bong, only to get it taken away with a mischievous smile, “What? You want it in writing?”

 

“Say we're friends,” Sebastian pushed, “I'll give you as much as you can take if you do.”

 

“Fine, yo, you win. We're friends,” Jesse felt a lightness in his chest as he finally said it out loud, “Like, barely. Now quit hogging it and be a good guy.”

 

The stuff went down like cotton candy, the smoke melting across his tongue and down his throat. It was the nicest he'd ever had. It didn't kick like the meth did but it was still good, making the world dip down in an endless descent. (It wasn't as horrifying as it sounded.) It was freeing to feel like you could infinity tumble down into the world. But instead of letting himself fall he dropped all his worry and anxiety over this whole night down the infinite slope that didn't actually exist.

 

“You biker boys sure do like the best of everything,” Jesse held the hit long after it burned his chest, the buzz loosening him up even more than the pizza had, “Must be nice.”

 

“It's all I've ever known,” Sebastian shrugged, “My dad was in it. My grandfather was in it. If I manage to rustle up a legitimate son, he'll probably end up on a Harley Davidson before he learns how to ride a tricycle.”

The thought of the man who liked dick getting a kid struck him as funny so he laughed around his next hit, greedily taking up as much as he could.

 

*******

 

The bass built, vibrations shooting through the floor and the walls to pass into his very blood stream. He rocked his head to the beat, losing himself in the music and letting it blot out the late hour and the constant battle of _should_ or _should_ _not._ The notes stacked, layered, shooting up like a shot of adrenaline. And Sebastian was right there with him, pumping his fist in the air. They exploded together, shouting out the crest like young boys shout rebellious into the night.

 

“ _Turn down for what!_ ”

 

They burst into raucous laughter, unable to stop themselves.

 

“I told you these speakers were ace!”

 

“I don't know what you think that accent is, yo, but it ain't English!” Jesse brayed over the music, “But, dawg, this sound is the _bomb_!”

 

“I took them off a heroin dealer we rolled over!” Sebastian boasted, all the grass he'd sucked down loosening up his tongue, “He had the best stereo set up I've ever seen.”

 

Jesse shoved a finger in his ear to block out just enough to make sure he heard him correctly, “You can get away with that?”

 

“Jesse, _dragă_ , we can get away with anything!” Sebastian bellowed in triumph, hands thrown up over his head, “The only ones who can touch us are too afraid to make a move! It's a win-win!”

 

Jesse was about to ask who had something over the Sons but a succession of thumps cut him off, “The fuck's that?”

 

He could barely hear the man laughing behind his hands, “It's my neighbors. Shit!”

 

Jesse wheezed out a low giggle. “Are they gonna be mad, yo?”

 

“Who the _fuck_ cares?”

 

“You can't get any more American than that!”

 

*******

 

“I bet you can't smoke a whole bowl.”

 

“You're on.”

 

*******

 

And that was how they ended up higher than they'd intended to be, leaving them lax and practically sedated in the leather embrace of the couch.

 

Jesse's limbs were weighed twice as much as usual, every move he made felt like he was doing it through molasses. The next piece of pizza he had was even more awesome than the slice when he was semi-sober, a pleased hum echoing through his stomach from being well-fed. They'd switched to a hockey game sometime in the last hour and they'd both become heavily invested in the opposite team.

 

He had no idea who the Phoenix Coyotes were but at the moment they were the bomb.

 

“Go ci-otes!” Jesse cupped his hands over his mouth, hissing a laugh through his teeth when Sebastian scowled and cursed in a rough language he didn’t understand.

 

“They have nothing on the Penguins,” the older man took the last hit off the bong, finally setting it aside, “Three of their players have the best individual stats in the entire league. Mathematically, they're the best team.”

 

“No more TV and weed for you,” the blonde took a long swig of beer to wash out the cotton mouth.

 

The room had grown kind of hazy but it wasn't anything he wasn't used to. It was a nice mellow. Time had faded off around the fourth hit and the third beer, somewhere between a _CSI_ rerun and this hockey game. He wasn't sure how the scoring worked or what the rules were, but it was enjoyable enough to stare at.

 

Warmth spread up his side, something touching his knee and the side of his head. The touch grounded him, bringing him back to the couch and the apartment. He blinked hard before he realized it was Sebastian saddling up next to him, one hand simple resting on his knee while he had an elbow on the back of his couch. Long, rough looking fingers were dragging their tips along his cap. Jesse craned his neck and caught a glimpse of the man's face. He was looking at him with blown-out, black eyes and something akin to longing lingering on his features. There was nothing threatening in his touch or his proximity but it was a sudden invasion and it kicked up his heart rate.

 

“Seb, man, what are you doin'?” Jesse asked

 

“Nothing,” the man sighed, thumb nail grazing the bottom of the hat, “I just…want to see your hair. Is that strange? It’s strange, isn’t it?”

 

Jesse definitely didn’t tilt his head to the side to give the man more room, no way that was on purpose, “Yeah.”

 

“I’ve been wanting to see it for a while now,” Sebastian confessed, brow pinching like he was perplexed by what he was saying, “I bet it’s lovely and soft.”

 

“ ‘Lovely’?” Jesse snickered, “What kind of faggoty word is that?”

 

“You’re confusing ‘faggoty’ with ‘cultured’ again,” the man’s thumb finally slipped under the material, “Let me see it, Jess. Please?”

 

Jesse grabbed the man’s hand, turning so they were face-to-face, “What do I get if I do?”

 

Sebastian’s face split into a sinister grin, “What would you like?”

 

A pulse of heat went through his groin, cock filling at the insinuation, “Whatta' you got?”

 

A game had been set. The air had changed, shifted, filling with the mood. Sebastian kissed him hard on the mouth, distracting him from the step they were taking. Fingers held his chin, keeping him still as the man's tongue slid between his lips. It was slower than it had been against the door, more a careful tasting than some kind of claim. He didn't fight it this time, there was no need. They both knew what they wanted and this late, with this much weed sliding through his veins, and Jesse didn't mind accepting that this felt good.

 

Sebastian broke off and the blonde chased his lips, blinking his eyes open to figure out where the man was going. The biker got up only to drop down between his knees, heavy palms settling on his thighs and parting them to make room. That grin was still on his face as his hands slid up to his belt, slowly working it open.

 

“Is this okay?” Sebastian husked out.

 

“Yeah.” He barely got it choked out, his throat suddenly all clogged up. He wanted to act cool and aloof, pull off sexy, but all he could manage was to watch with half-lidded eyes as Sebastian thumbed open the button of his jeans. He lifted his lips when prompted, each lungful of air feeling just a little less full than the last. The rough material rasped down his thighs and it was like roots had grown up into his chest, restricting him and making him light headed.

 

“Relax,” Sebastian urged, a little more flushed but otherwise unchanged by this new development, “Let me do this.”

 

“ 'S gonna change.”

 

Was that him slurring? How much had he had?

 

Dark brows knitted up, “What will it change?”

  
“Me.”

 

“No, Jesse, no,” the older man pushed up for a moment to kiss him again, a soothing touch like a balm, “It won't change anything. You're the same. You're getting off, that's all. Don't think too hard.”

 

“Mmm,” Jesse hummed as the man slid back down, a pale hand slipping under his shirt and pushing it up to expose the plane of his stomach. Sebastian rained kisses down on the skin, sensitizing it, making it tremble. The blonde hooked his arms behind the couch, subconsciously opening up for whatever the man wanted to do.

 

“There we go, little lynx,” was whispered into his flesh, fingers dancing along the elastic of his boxers before curling inside. They were slid down to bundle with his pants mid-thigh. He silently thanked his choice of loose clothing because even with his knees hobbled he still had plenty of room to spread. His cock was red and straining for a hot mouth, eager to get some attention. He'd been hard since the kiss and he'd been wanting it for days.

 

As Sebastian's lips skimmed around his belly button, a flash of panic stained his cheeks red. What if he freaked out halfway through? What if he couldn't go through with it? If he couldn't spill then what would the man think about him?

 

Hot breath spilled over the tip of his dick, the shock of it derailing his trail of thought. Seb had good lips and they felt so good sliding over the smooth, sensitive flesh. It was a slow exploration, the man's hot tongue laving at the rim and finding that patch of nerves at the end. Jesse moaned out loud before biting down on his lip, pushing down the sounds he wanted to make. That mouth worked further down, taking down every inch with a faint moan and a swallow that made his throat flutter around his length.

 

Sebastian pulled back up suddenly, letting the tip of his tongue drag along the thick vein of his dick. He released the flesh with a pornographic _pop_ that made him shudder.

 

“I can feel you holding it all in,” Sebastian ran his hands along the outside of the boy's thighs, thumbs coming up to trace his hips, “Let me hear it.”

 

“I'm not...,” but they both knew it was a lie.

 

“ _Ar fi o pierdere pentru tine de a fi liniștit_ ,” Sebastian laid a kiss on his thigh, pupils eating up the ring of color in his eyes, “Such a waste.”

 

Those words, whatever they were, made him drip. The older man released a sound of content, lapping away the drop of pre-cum that had oozed up in his lust. The sight of it made his hips rock up, seeking friction despite the way the man's lashes fluttered in surprise. He was going to apologize but Sebastian looked just as content as ever, letting him move how he wanted.

 

“God, your mouth.” Jesse could barely believe it was him spilling out those things but it felt too right saying them to stop. He wondered idly how many guys Sebastian had done this too but it was a fleeting thought that quickly left when the man started to really suck. Pressure and warmth and slick...it'd been way too long since someone had done this for him.

 

The man pulled off, fingers sliding around Jesse's now wet cock and jacking him in a steady rhythm that made him thrust up. Fuck, it felt like he was going to pop already. Sebastian's mouth didn't stray far, those spit-slick DSLs busy kissing any exposed inch of flesh they could find.

 

Jesse reached up and ripped off his hat, tossing it to the floor. His head fell back into the couch and he let himself just enjoy it, sinking into the sensations. He wouldn't last long, there was no way. Every squeeze on the head, every flick of tongue, and ever drag of his knuckles pushed him that much closer to the edge. It didn't help that weed sapped his stamina. His gut was tightening up and every touch was starting to feel like fire.

 

When Jesse managed to open his eyes again, ready to warn him that he was going to lose it, he saw that the man was grinning.

 

“Pretty blonde boy,” Sebastian teased, making him gasp.

 

“Shut up.”

 

That continuously smiling mouth descended, robbing him of his words and reason. His hand shot down to fist in raven locks, holding on tight as he shot higher and higher. He rasped out something that could've been that warning but he couldn't be sure. His ears were filled up with the _whoosh_ of his own blood and his chest was just so _full_.

His orgasm hit him like a breaking storm, crackling in his stomach before spreading out and consuming the rest of him. His mind short-circuited, every muscle seizing up before dissolving. He sighed and his body went lax in the leather, everything becoming too much. He hummed and lost himself, letting it all slip away as he basked in the pure pleasure of it all. He felt a few things: tongue and lips cleaning the slick off his cock and making him shudder, his pants and boxers being pulled back up to cover his modesty.

 

The world came back into focus when he felt the couch shifting. Sebastian had a knee braced between the blonde's legs. The biker was gazing at him like he was really something to be looked at. His eyes were still dark but this close Jesse could really see the pure blue in them. Like ice, clear and sharp, digging into him and demanding everything he had to give. They roamed all over his face, his hair, down the rest of him. Strong hands grabbed the edges of his jacket and pulled it aside, effectively showing off the slumped line of his body. He glanced down and remembered that his shirt was still all pushed up under his arms, his fly wide open to show off the curve of his covered, softening cock. He didn't touch him but that stare felt just like a steady stream of fingertips from his hairline to his knees.

 

“My god, you’re beautiful,” Sebastian claimed, a serious expression across his handsome face. His lips were still swollen and they looked even riper now, begging to be kissed. He'd met girls ten times prettier than Sebastian and none of them had ever possessed mouths that called to him like a siren song. He lifted his head, silently requesting a kiss, and he was obliged. Too briefly.

 

“You are so small under all those layers,” Sebastian nudged his cheek with his nose, the contact tickling his skin, “Everywhere except your cock.”

 

“Dick,” Jesse jested.

 

“You know,” he whispered between kisses, “If we really were together, you wouldn’t be my bitch. You’d be my boy.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Jesse smacked the man on the shoulder, “You done pinning me like a butterfly?”

 

“Not nearly,” Sebastian growled, moving quickly. Jesse laughed out loud as he was grabbed around the waist and picked up, just long enough for the biker to get properly on the couch on his knees. The dealer was pulled into his lap, and he went willingly. It was warm and friendly, so he went with it and snuggled into the older man. Their mouths met and he could feel the hard evidence of his lust pressing into his inner thigh.

 

He needed to give back, show the man what he could do. He needed to...to...

 

*******

 

The boy slowly went limp in his arms, mouth falling slack and weight slumping in his lap.

 

Sebastian frowned and pulled back, “Jesse? Are you alright?”

 

His pink lips fell open and a loud breath escaped him, a sound close to a snore. The moment he eased up his grip, Jesse slumped back onto the couch and his head lolled back. His narrow chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, slowed down by the drugs and exhaustion. Dark gold lashes twitched but he didn’t open his eyes, even after another call of his name.

 

He’d fallen asleep.

 

“Sweet boy,” Sebastian murmured under his breath.

 

Jesse was so different from anyone he’d ever met. All the men in his life had always been so sure of themselves, forged into sturdy masculine steel by the flame of gang life. His family life was strong, his friends loyal, and his education always put first.

 

This one, this boy, threw up the harshest persona he’d ever seen. He was loud and he could cut, his words could be knives. Sebastian wanted to know just what had forced the blonde to carve out such weapons for himself. What tragic whetstone had sharpened his barbs into what they were today? Who was he? What was he capable of? There was so much potential in this lithe little body; there was hidden strength threaded into his skinny limbs and temptation woven into the cradle of his hips.

 

Sebastian knew that someone like Tig would just keep going, use Jesse’s previous consent to finish what they'd started. But he wouldn’t do that to him now that he’d gained his trust and established a rocky friendship. To be honest, he couldn’t do something like that to anyone let alone the one in his arms. Though he couldn’t deny there was temptation in the thought of slowly slicking the boy up, stretching him real careful to keep him from fully waking. He would break him open with his cock, jolt him out of sleep with a rough pace and the fullness of his cock. Oh, how he could make this boy ache and whimper. Show him the pleasure of getting fucked.

 

And he was a virgin to men. Fuck, the things he could teach him were endless. He could give the boy a hundred new tools to use in the bedroom, mold him into a seductive force to be reckoned with. He was tan and small with blonde hair and big blue eyes and a little cupid mouth, he had no idea how far that could get him. This body could wrap men up around themselves so tight they’d break at the first wink. He was as deadly as the cat he called him, as agile and possibly as deadly.

 

Sebastian found his need to teach didn’t stop there. He wanted to show Jesse how to fight with his fists, how to shoot a gun, how to get on a hog and use every bit of its power to his advantage. He could never see the blonde as pathetic but there were things he lacked, things Sebastian knew he could easily learn if he tried. He desperately wanted to feed him, to pack some weight onto his small frame.

 

Maybe even teach him how to run his business a little better to help him earn more money.

 

Jesse could be something terrifying if he just knew how to apply himself.

 

Sebastian wrapped his arms around Jesse’s lower back, pulling him back into him. The blonde gave a real snore before shifting around, wrapping sluggish arms around his shoulders and resting his head against his neck. It was a sweet gesture that made him smile, his hand coming up to slowly card through burnt gold hair. It would be the last time for a while and he wanted to remember it. The tresses sifted through his digits like flour, giving in so generously.

 

“I meant what I said earlier,” Sebastian breathed in the musk of sweat and male, letting it coat his senses, “You’re so very pretty, Jesse.”

 

But the boy was long gone.

 

*******

 

Scripted laughter drew him out of a sound, dreamless sleep.

 

Jesse pried his eyes open, giving a little grunt when he saw _Friends_ playing on the TV now. He fucking hated that show. That show that…wasn’t playing on his television. A show that he was watching from somewhere that was distinctly not his couch. He braced a hand down to try and sit up but stopped when he felt buttery leather beneath his palm. Who’s fucking couch was…?

 

 _Oh_. Right. Sebastian’s apartment.

 

Jesse was face down in the leather, drool slicking his cheek and drying out his mouth. He was lying flat on his belly, his hat resting on the floor beside him and shoes still kicked off a few feet away. Grey light peaked in around the curtains and the clock read roughly seven in the morning. Shit, he was still tired. It couldn't hurt to keep sleeping.

 

The dealer was about to drift off again when he caught sight of the man on the chair. Sebastian had curled his long body up to fit, neck resting on one armrest while the other was occupied by the crook of his knees. He had an arm tossed above his head, fingers hanging crooked and still in the air. His sweatpants had ridden down to expose the defined line of his hip, deeper than the pathetic attempts on his own. A pang of jealousy was chased by one of longing, teeth scraping over his lip as he stared longer than necessary to stock the memory away for later.

 

The man gave a faint moan, stretching out for a few long seconds before sinking back into the leather. It brought his eyes up to Sebastian's peach-pink mouth, closed and slightly curved in a smile. Was he always fucking grinning?

 

_He should. He looks really fucking cute when he's smiling._

 

Jesse shook his head, forcing himself to sit up. He pulled on his shoes and tied them up tight before snatching his hat, putting it over his hair again. He needed to get the fuck out of here. Last night he'd let...he'd...Sebastian had... _fuck_ , he couldn't even think it. He'd let the dude suck his dick, and he'd liked it. Like, a lot. The man had taken his time, got him wet, touched every sensitive spot so slowly that he was sure he was going to fall apart right there on the couch.

 

It was scaring the shit out of him.

 

He got to his feet and was about to head for the door but something stopped him, something below his heart was getting tugged on at the thought of just leaving like this. He rolled his eyes and gave into it, tip-toeing over to the chair. The man dozed unknowingly, a socked foot twitching but otherwise was peaceful and still.

 

Jesse started to bend down but hesitated. What did this mean? What was this now? They weren't exactly safely strangers but they weren't friends. He knew the man's last name, his smoking technique, the kind of bike he drove, how talented his mouth was, and that he had the same passion for rap music he did. Other than that, the man was a mystery.

 

God help him, he liked it. He was digging everything about this, even the confusion and self-hatred and the complete lack of faith in everything he'd ever known.

 

Jesse pressed a kiss to the man's rough cheek, lingering there long enough to breath him in. Motor oil seemed to be embedded into every inch of his skin, and there was weed there too. Under that was soap, and sweat. For all the impossibly _male_ things about this situation, he'd enjoyed it. He hadn't had so much fun since high school. It was definitely better than sitting around getting high by himself, or with his “friends” trying to impress them. He hadn't even tried with Sebastian, he'd just been – well, himself. He'd laughed too hard and talked too much but the biker hadn't given a fuck about any of that. Sebastian had spent the entire night looking happy and it was an infectious emotion.

 

Jesse left as quietly as he could, even going so far as to keep the latch from clicking. The moment he hit the stairs all bets were off, tennis shoes slapping hard off the polished wood. This was a nice place and with every extra minute he was there it felt like he was dirtying it up somehow. Sebastian may not have been clean-handed but he wasn't even close to his standards. To men like him, Jesse was a bottom-feeder. A dealer, a meth-slinger, a scum-sucker, a glorified punching bag.

 

If Sebastian found out...

 

Jesse yanked open the door and stepped outside, shivering all over. The morning was dull, everything washed out and grey like an old movie, clouds pregnant with rain. The air was so damp that it was almost too wet to light up a cigarette. He half-jogged to his car, ducking into it and slamming the door closed. He grabbed the steering wheel and held on for dear life.

 

“Fuck.”

 

Sebastian's mouth had been so giving, better than the last three bitches who had gotten him off. They'd either been doing it to hurry up the night or pay for a quarter of meth. The way he'd looked at him had stolen his breath right out of his lungs, ripping him up in a way he hadn't known he'd wanted. After everything, when most people got up to wash out their mouths or just to leave, Sebastian had dragged him into his lap and kissed him full on the mouth.

 

And after that...after that...

 

“Double fuck,” Jesse dropped his forehead on the wheel. He must have fallen asleep in the middle like some retard who couldn't handle his smoke. Jesus Christ! How the fuck was he ever supposed to look Sebastian in the face again? What kind of limp-dicked teenager fell asleep _on_ the person who'd just sucked their dick? He'd never been so embarrassed. There was no way he was going back in there ever again.

 

And that would sound a lot better if that wasn't the one thing he wanted to do right now. Go back up there, maybe wake Sebastian up, and head to bed nice and proper. Like an old couple or something.

 

There was nothing good about this whole thing and it was starting to give him a migraine.

* * *

 **Alright, so what do you think? Like it? Love it? Please tell me you didn't hate it. There's a lot more of this to come.**  

**Tumblr Gifsets:[Intro](http://emono-omae.tumblr.com/post/78783589690/this-is-the-fucking-love-story-that-nobody), [They Meet](http://emono-omae.tumblr.com/post/78784865346/are-you-naturally-that-sweet-the-man-pressed)**

 

 


	2. Mostly Sex, To Be Honest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse learns to trust, and he has some decisions ahead of him. Oh, and there's sex. Lots of sex.

The clubhouse was buzzing with people, beer flowing like water as rowdy stories were passed around in groups. They'd been celebrating every night since half their crew has been sprung from jail. It was good to have their leader, vice, sergeant at arms, and everyone else back.

 

Sebastian made an impressive shot into the corner pocket, pumping his fist in triumph as he moved into his next shot. He stole a glance at his best friend and comrade, Juice, and thanked the stars that the man had shaved off all that horrible facial hair and cut down his hair before he'd met Jesse. He was much more intimidating without that stupid mustache.

 

“Seb.” He turned to see Jax approaching him, the blonde smiling real big and offering his fist. They bumped and he got pulled into a manly bear hug, the bigger man crushing him in a friendly way he was used to. They were long-standing comrades, raised together, learned how to ride together, even getting their cuts around the same time. He was the vice president but he was his brother too, and it was good to have him back.

 

“We've been busy with those Russians, man, I haven't had a chance to really talk to you,” Jax pointed out, patting his shoulder.

 

“It's alright,” Sebastian shrugged, “You've got Tara and the boys to spend time with.”

 

“Thanks for keeping an eye on them, by the way.”

 

“You know I love them like my own,” Sebastian assured him, coaxing a smile out of the blonde, “I may have spoiled Abel a bit, though.”

“So _you're_ behind the small army of action figures,” Jax accused, shaking him a little.

 

“Guilty,” the ravenette punched him in the shoulder, “What's up, man?”

 

“Hey! You ladies gonna chat all night or are we gonna play?” Happy drawled, “I've got fifty bucks riding on this.”

 

“Chill out,” Jax teased, though he still had a hold on their Road Captain, “I need to borrow him for a few minutes. So put your thumb up your ass and sit on it.”

 

Sebastian was still chuckling when the blonde led him towards an empty corner, his friend standing a bit too close to keep the mood light. He sobered up and stared Jax in the eye, putting on his game face for whatever news he was about to receive.

 

“Look at you,” there was a note of fondness in his voice, “You don't have to soldier up for me. I'm not Dad.”

 

“You can't blame me when you look so serious,” Sebastian looked over the man's handsome face, “There's something wrong.”

 

“I heard there was a guy hanging around a few days ago,” Jax's teeth appeared over his lip, grazing the flesh and turning it red, “Apparently he was one of yours.”

 

Sebastian could feel dread building up between his shoulder blades, “Sort of.”

 

“I told you a long time ago, Seb, I don't care if you take a boy up or not,” Jax cut a look toward where Juice and Chibs were talking up a couple of girls, “If you keep it behind closed doors, we're all willing to look the other way. But now is not a good time to have sketchy boys hanging off the fence looking in. I'm sure he's great and everything but it's just a _bad time_. All eyes are on us and the last thing we need is to find out about us housing some cocksuckers. It's not just _you_ , you understand?”

 

It was a conversation they seemed to have every two years like clockwork. He'd come out as “open opportunity” to Clay at sixteen, the same day his self-proclaimed uncle had unofficially offered him a real spot in SAMCRO. He'd told him then and there that if he wanted nothing more to do with him, feelings and family be damned, he'd accept that and leave. Surprisingly Clay had just put an arm around his shoulders, told him he'd have to keep it behind closed doors, and to hurry up home because it was getting late.

 

'Home' at the time had been with Chibs in a decent apartment with all the food he could stuff in his face and as much beer as he wanted (as long as he bought more). And once he'd got there he'd been confronted by his legal guardian who'd proceeded to scold him for twenty minutes about how he should always tell him shit like this first in case, one day, Clay didn't feel so lenient about his shit.

 

“You'd think I'd put Chibby in danger?” Sebastian had only said those words once, it was a new edition since his father figure had started to occasionally fuck his best friend within ear shot of his old bedroom (which was still unsettling), “Or this club?”

 

“The guy was standing out there for a while from what Juice told me,” Jax pulled a face, “That leaves two things for me to believe. Either you're getting sloppy, or you haven't explained the rules to him.”

 

Sebastian's jaw ticked beneath his skin.

 

“You're lucky Clay didn't hear about this.” Jax was pushing it now. “We don't have time to be screwing around doing background checks on some little blonde shit with a big mouth.”

 

“He's just a kid, Jax,” Sebastian defended, “He's twenty-three, _maybe_. He doesn't need a check, he's barely had time to do anything besides sell a little weed.”

 

“Can you guarantee that?” the older man's eyes narrowed at him, “Do you know where he lives? Who he hangs around with? What's his last name?”

 

Sebastian didn't have an answer for any of those questions.

 

“Find out what you're sticking your dick in, okay?”

 

“I'm not going to spook him off because you're paranoid,” Sebastian protested, “I'll find out in my own time.”

 

It was Jax's turn to look tense.

 

“Brother,” Sebastian grabbed the man by the crook of his neck, squeezing him, “Let me deal with this in my own way. I'll take full responsibility for anything involving him but I can promise you now that he'll be no more trouble than I can deal with.”

 

“If he talks-”

 

“He won't,” Sebastian laughed lowly, scrubbing his fingers through the man's buzzed down hair, “Jax, my oldest friend, you worry too much. Have I ever let things get out of hand before?”  
  
“Never,” Jax admitted, starting to relax, “I'm sorry, Seb, it's just been hectic and it's only going to get worse.”

 

“That's why you have to stay focused and leave my sex life alone,” it was an obvious jest that made them both laugh, “It's unhealthy to think so much about where one's family puts their dick.”

 

“You're right! You're right!” Jax rubbed a hand over his face, “You're always right, Seb. I'm sorry, man. I got all 'Clay' on you, didn't I?”  
  
“You did.”

 

“Besides. Chibby already had this talk with me. It went over about as well.”

 

They hugged and parted way, promising to meet up later for some shots, but it all left Sebastian with a sour taste in his mouth.

 

*******

 

Jesse was still in bed when his phone started going off. He dug himself out of the nest he'd created over night, sheets twisted around his arms and head from all the thrashing he'd done. Every time he went to bed without a hit of something or a cigarette he got restless. At least this time all the pillows weren't on the floor.

 

He was flipping open the device before he'd even rubbed his eyes open. Once he finally got the sleep out of them he realized there was a text.

 

**Tell me your address and I'll bring food. - Seb**

 

Jesse groaned and hid his face in the pillow, groaning in frustration. He'd been successfully avoiding that guy since their little 'encounter' a few days ago. He was still completely embarrassed and every time he thought about it blood rushed to his cheeks and cock. What did Sebastian want with him anyway? He'd blown his chance at giving whatever they were a shot by falling asleep (like an idiot).

 

After a few minutes of tearing himself up, he flipped onto his back and raised the phone up to his eyes. Regret already itching through his fingers, Jesse responded.

 

**You just want to know where I live - J**

 

The reply was quick.

 

**You caught me. Are you hungry? – Seb**

 

Jesse was in the middle of telling him to fuck off when he felt his stomach growl. His heart gave a pang and he knew he wanted to see the man, despite the idiocy of it. He cleared the message and put his address down instead. He got a question on how he liked his burgers and he answered. He got out of bed and went to the bathroom, going through the motions of a shower and clean clothes. He thought about shaving but decided against it. He hid every evidence of meth in the house, even putting the cough syrup under the sink.

 

Thirty minutes after the text, Jesse was pacing in his living room. He had one of his fitted hats twisted between his hands, still unsure if he wanted to put it on or not. Not that he gave a fuck what the man thought or not, but Sebastian had been almost begging to see his hair last time. What did it mean if he left it off? What were they now?

 

There was a knock at the door.

 

“Fuck this,” Jesse yanked the hat on, purposefully covering his hair up as much as he could manage, “He sucked your dick, that's it. Just a dude and another dude helping each other out. Get over yourself. Get over _him_.”

He stomped to the door and threw it open, ready to tell the man to give the food over and get the hell off his porch. And he was going to do it, he really was, but then he saw him.

 

“Hey!” Sebastian greeted him cheerfully, holding up a white take out bag. He was wrapped up in his leather jacket, buttoned tight across his chest with his patches proudly on display. He had thick shades over his eyes and his hair was mussed from the open-face helmet that was tucked under his arm. His Harley was parked outside beside his own car, the gate re-closed and everything.

 

“Uh, hi,” Jesse could feel himself deflate, all that righteous anger blowing out of him like hot hair.

 

“I have food,” Sebastian took off his shades, revealing his mirthful expression, “Do you have beer?”

 

He nodded.

 

Sebastian shifted his weight in a vaguely nervous way, “Shall we eat on the grass or can I come in?”

 

“Oh!” Jesse realized he was staring and backed up, giving him room, “Yeah, get in here.”

 

Sebastian took the invitation, breezing past him and walking through the hall like he owned it. He went for the living room and cleared a place on the table for them. Boots clunk loudly, he went into the kitchen next and returned with a cold four pack.

 

“I like your house,” Sebastian commented, rolling his head back to get a complete look at the room as he started to unbutton and unzip his jacket. The shirt beneath it was long sleeved, dark blue, and (most importantly) skin tight. It clung to him like a second skin, highlighting every hard-earned muscle. Jesse ran a hand down his arm, making a mental note to hit some weights once he left.

 

“Thanks,” he wanted to tell him it was his aunt's and was left to him but he just cleared his throat instead, “Did you grow up in a dump or somethin'?”

 

Sebastian's mouth fell open to reply, but he just pulled a face and shut it again, “This food is a friendly gesture, Jesse, but it's also means for a bribe.”

 

“I knew it,” the blonde scoffed, throwing his hand out, “What the fuck you want?”

 

“Sit, eat,” Sebastian dug his food out of the bag and put it on the table like an offering, “I just want to talk.”

 

“Nothin' good ever came after that statement,” he pointed out, inching toward the table as his stomach made itself known again with a rumble.

 

“Jesse.”

 

“Fuck you, man, I'm serious,” he cut his eyes towards the window, looking for more bikes or maybe a lynch mob, “You come to my neighborhood decked out in your scary biker shit, get my address, and you expect me to be calm? I don't know the first thing about you, yo.”

 

“You know I won't hurt you,” Sebastian offered simply.

 

Jesse ran his tongue over his teeth, biting back a few nasty words. No matter what he said that statement held true. The man had never hurt him, and when he'd fallen asleep the man had respected his space and moved to a different chair. There was no real reason to fear him, just his gang. Holding on to this logic, he pulled up a folding chair and sat on the opposite side of the table. Sebastian seemed to accept this and just settled on the couch, picking at his fries.

 

The older man waited until he had a mouthful of burger before he started talking.

 

“There are three choices in front of us.”

 

“Jesus,” he muttered before taking another bite, filling his mouth so he didn't tell him to walk his tight ass out of there.

 

“Are you going to listen or just criticize me the entire time?”

 

The blonde gestured for him to continue, then picked up a handful of salty fries and shoved them between his lips.

 

“I can finish this, walk out of here today, and never bother you again,” Sebastian took a pull of his beer, “I think we'll both regret it but if it's what you want, I'll do it.”

 

Jesse rubbed the heel of his hand into his chest, trying to work out the little pulses of pain that came up at the words. It was the same thing he'd proposed, although more rudely, just the other night. To part ways, to forget each other, to live out their opposite lives in peace. Hearing the older man saying it was different though, it felt more real. Maybe Sebastian didn't feel that same stupid pull he did. This was probably an everyday occurrence for the biker. Fucking around with strangers, bringing them food to keep them happy and quiet. Dick.

 

“We could also just fuck.”

 

Jesse choked loudly, hurriedly swallowing down everything before he inhaled it, “What the hell, man?”

 

“I'm not saying that to shock you,” Sebastian fiddled with a fry before taking a bite out of it, “We could go by the usual rules of casual relationships. No mouth kissing, no staying over, and no talking about it. We've both done it before, I'm sure. We find each other attractive and we trust one another enough not to steal wallets or slit our throats in the night. Those are really the only two criteria for that kind of tryst. At least in my experience.”

 

“You got a lot of that, huh?” he muttered hotly, swilling down beer to help him forget that this _thing_ between him that he'd been so worried about was crashing down around his head.

 

“I doubt either of us are hard up for partners.” Jesse could hear the frown in his voice. “You're angry.”

 

“Fuck you, man.” The blonde chugged the rest of his beer, desperate for this whole ordeal to end already. Sebastian got up but he refused to look at him, concentrating on demolishing the rest of his fries instead. He screwed the top off a second one and washed the sale out of his mouth, turning his head away when the man sat on the table facing him. Fingers grabbed the collar of his jacket and started to move it aside but he shrugged off the touch like a petulant child. Sebastian sighed patiently before trying again, the first touch of stubble and lips on his neck almost shocking him. He turned his head away but didn't shrug him off again, reluctantly allowing the attention. Dry kisses were pressed just under his ear, leaving a trail of sensation down to the swell of his jugular.

 

“Believe me, _dragă_ , it would be no hardship for me to fuck you to sleep every night and sneak out before midnight hits.” Teeth dragged across his skin, making him sigh. “I could make you feel so good and you'd never have to speak a word to me. This...I would do for you.”

 

Sebastian's accent was slipping in and ( _God help him_ ) he was digging it.

 

“Or,” the ravenette pulled back, resting a knuckle on the blonde's cheek and turning his head so their eyes met, “I could warm your bed and we could be real friends.”

 

“ 'Real' friends?” he echoed.

 

“The third option, and the one I'm favoring, is where were get to know each other,” Sebastian continued, tracing the line of the blonde's collar bone, “I'd rather we let things flow naturally and see where it takes us.”

 

Jesse scanned the man's face for sincerity, “What does that mean?”

 

“I want to talk to you,” Sebastian's fingers strayed up to his cheek, the sparse hair of his beard scratching against them, “I'd like to share more than my body with you.”

 

“You are such a faggot, dude,” Jesse protested, eyes dropping to the floor.

 

“You keep saying that, but you want the same things I want,” Sebastian insisted, leaning down to forcibly meet his shifty gaze, “You need a friend, Jesse. Even if you won't admit it.”

 

“Shut up.” But it was too weak to be taken seriously.

 

“I'd never touch you like this again,” Sebastian's eyes were big and earnest, his thumb roaming over the blonde's cheekbone, “It would kill me. But I think I'd rather be friends than to cut you out. It would make the gang happier.”

 

“Fuck them too!” Jesse stood, shoving the man in the shoulder, “You don't know who the fuck I am or what I do! You have no idea what I want from this. You think I need to hear this bullshit 'we should just be friends' bit? You think your so God damn cute that I won't bust up your face?”

 

He shoved the man again, his bewildered expression only fueling his anger.

 

“The fuck's wrong with you, yo?” Jesse spat, “What kind of person tells someone they'd just stop lovin' on them? Or let them know that their friends apparently fucking hate their guts for no God damn reason? You can't start a friendship by being a total asshole and buying kisses and throwing around the term 'casual sex' like it's just some Sunday stroll, yo. You can't walk up into a man's house and make him feel like he's a dime a dozen, you fucking Grade A mothe-!”

 

Sebastian grabbed a fistful of the blonde's jacket and dragged him up into a hard kiss. Jesse gave a squawk of surprise and shoved him hard, knocking the man so off balance he was able to shove the older man around the table and onto the couch. He was grabbed by the arms and pulled down, his back hitting the couch. Anger and lust bubbling in his gut, Jesse seized raven locks through his fingers and twisted down to drag him into another kiss. This time he owned it, biting the man's lip so hard he was sure he was close to drawing blood. Sebastian just moaned and tried to climb on top of him but he wasn't having any of it. He brought his knee up to his chest and managed to lay his foot on the man's ribs, waiting until he was lost in the kiss before kicking him back. The biker flailed gracelessly, and Jesse used it to his advantage. He jumped on him, pressing him down into the couch and effectively reversing their positions.

 

Sebastian was bright-eyed and wonderfully breathless under him. “You're flexible.”

 

“And you're not as charming as you think you are,” Jesse lashed out and grabbed the man by the throat, a warning, “I'm not some bitch you can kiss into submission, alright? I meant what I said – I don't need some gay-ass thug tryin' to muscle into my life and making me feel like shit about myself. I can hate myself just fine without you helpin' me along!”

 

Sebastian frowned, fingers coming up to rest on the blonde's wrist, “Jess...”

 

“Shut up!” Jesse snapped, squeezing down on the man's windpipe. Sebastian merely tilted his head back and blanketed the younger man's hands, like he was encouraging the contact.

 

“If it'll make you feel better, go ahead,” the biker urged, his thumb along the fine bones of the other's fingers. The action took all the wind out of Jesse's sails. He released his neck and sat back, sitting on the man's lap while his shoulders slumped in a sort of defeat.

 

“I don't want to hurt you,” he admitted under his breath.

 

“Okay,” Sebastian sat up and kept him in his lap, laying his hands respectfully on the blonde's shoulders, “Okay.”

 

Jesse feinted twice before he got up the nerve to kiss the biker again, just a press of lips that was way too pathetic to be called anything special (like their first). But it soothed his frazzled nerves and threw the proverbial bucket of ice water on the fire-hot desire for another hit of ice.

 

“I want to keep doin' this.” Jesse couldn't open his eyes, he couldn't even properly break their kiss. “No names or labels or anything. Just doing it.”

 

“I think we can manage that.” Sebastian touched his hat, palm sliding down until it cradled the curve of his jaw. “I have to go, though. I promised the guys I'd back them up tonight.”

 

“Back them up?” he parroted.

 

“They have some kind of deal and they need some muscle,” the ravenette made it sound like it was an everyday thing, “But I have a few more minutes. I'd like to spend it kissing you?”

 

“You're such a fuckin' sap.”

 

But he couldn't deny him the contact, not when he wanted it just as bad.

 

*******

 

**I'm coming to pick you up. – Seb**

 

Jesse read the text and his first instinct was to shove his crystal back into its bag and wedge it down between the couch cushions. He looked around frantically, as if the man was already there. After he realized how stupid he was being, he calmly put the pipe and the bag away in his room where the biker wouldn't find it snooping.

 

**Now why would you go and do a stupid thing like that? - J**

 

**Because we're hanging out tonight and we need to make a beer run. And a food run. Juicy and I may have blazed up the other night and eaten everything in my fridge. Bring a big backpack. - Seb**

 

Thirty minutes later, Jesse was standing outside smoking a cigarette while watching his open gate. He could hear the bike from down the street and wasn't surprised in the least when Sebastian peeled into his driveway. A dark swirl of rubber painted itself at the foot of it but the man quickly killed the engine and it purred into silence as it came to rest beside his own car.

 

“No doin' doughnuts in my driveway, asshole,” Jesse gestured with his cigarette, struggling to keep the telltale heat from his voice. Sebastian looked his best all decked out in biker gear; even with that heavy helmet crushing down all his hair. Thick shades over his eyes, jacket buttoned across his broad chest to make the material stretch tight even though it was a solid seventy-eight degrees. The heat didn't seem to touch him, not a bead of it on his neck or staining his clothes even as he kicked the stand down and got off the Harley. It was then he realized there was a spare helmet strapped to the back.

 

“Dude, really?” he asked hopefully.

 

“You must start using subjects and verbs and proper adjectives when you speak,” Sebastian teased mercilessly, coming up and swinging an arm around his neck. Jesse protested weakly (“ _Not here, man, anyone could see._ ”) but he allowed a chaste kiss to be placed on his mouth.

 

“Alright!” Sebastian gave a sharp smack to the boy's ass, making him jump, “Hop on with me. We're burning daylight and I'm starving.”

 

Jesse slid his backpack onto his shoulders, starting toward the bike, “You're really gonna let me on 'yer girl here?”

 

“Put on that helmet and I'm willing to share her.” Sebastian watched him closely as he climbed on, straddling the sun-warm metal towards the back. It took him a few long moments to adjust and balance his weight, the biker's hand grabbing the handle and keeping the whole thing steady. Jesse took off his hat and stuffed it in his jacket, zipping the garment up so it wouldn't flap around. When he looked up to tell Seb he was ready to go, he discovered the older man was staring at him with a large grin that made his heart give a jump.

 

“God bless this fine green Earth,” Sebastian breathed, leaning on the bike and shamelessly ogling him, “Your hair looks like... _sunshine_ out here.”

 

“That might actually just be the sun, yo,” Jesse stuttered out, reaching up and scratching some lines through the tresses, “It's not that impressive, man, so quit starin' at me.”

 

“I can't help it,” the biker replied honestly, “You cover it all up and when you take those silly hats off it's like the clouds have broken. Can you blame a man for soaking up some rays when it's been grey for so long?”

 

Fingers curled in his hair and he gave up his lips willingly this time, taking in the man's kiss like a greedy sponge. His mind struggled to remember his neighbors but Sebastian was well equipped to wipe all those worries away.

 

“You're so pretty and you have no idea,” Sebastian muttered into his mouth.

 

“Stop buttering me up,” Jesse pinched his cheek, getting a startled yelp out of him, “You've already got me here on this death machine. You don't need no fancy words to make me go with you.”

 

“Jess,” Sebastian dropped his head for a moment, and when he raised it up his smile was back, “Hold onto me, alright?”

 

A minute later they were roaring down the road, the blonde whooping and clinging onto his companion like his life depending on it. With the speed they were going, it kind of did.

 

*********

 

The bass pumped through the floor like a heartbeat, their pulses struggling to keep up. They'd done this three times in two weeks, each night ending in drunken kisses and clumsy groping. They hadn't pushed each other and so far they'd been having a blast, content with teasing and lazing around and waking up drooling into each other's shoulders.

 

This night in particular had started off different. There was something _more_ in the air, the air thickening up somewhere between the last beer and the first hit of weed. Sebastian had packed the bong, lit it up with practiced movements, and started drawing out those creamy clouds. He'd taken the first hit greedily, smoke pouring from his lips after holding it for a long time. After he was through he picked up what he'd been talking about before, a car at the shop that he was about to finish up. He was going on and on about its potential and the paint job but all Jesse could think about was his pretty mouth and how sweet it had looked full of his cock. He was buzzed enough to act on instincts and they were leading him to just climb into Sebastian's lap. He gave in and moved in, straddling him low by his knees so he could keep the bong between them.

 

“Jess?” he voiced, looking the boy over.

 

“I'm awful at bongs, yo,” his voice was deceptively soft, “I always suck too hard and burn my throat up.

 

“What?” Sebastian's brows knit up, “I'm sorry, Jess, I'll roll you something or-”

 

“Shh,” he put his thumb on the lips he'd been fixated on all night, “Just shotgun it to me.”

 

“Really?”

 

“This isn't gonna work if you act all flabbergasted every time I suggest something,” Jesse pointedly looked down at the bong, “So are you gonna give it to me or should I get back on my side of the couch?”

 

Sebastian comically hurried to pack the bowl up again and light it up, mouth almost missing the lip of the pipe in his haste. Jesse laughed out loud as he watched the bong bubble up and start to smoke again. His chuckles died off as he watched the biker start to change from over-eager puppy back to seductive demon, the two personas exchanging and sluicing off one another like water. As with all things that came with Sebastian, it should've been unnerving but the man managed to twist it into something that made his cock hard.

 

The ravenette grabbed him by the back of the neck as he set aside bong, dragging him in so their chests touched. Their lips met and he opened his mouth obediently, the man pouring the withheld smoke past his teeth and down into his lungs. He sucked it up greedily, tongue busy licking the almost-sweet taste out of the older man's mouth.

 

The night was paved to go the route of the others. They rocked and groped, the older man restraining himself enough to keep from thumbing at his clothes (his usual routine).

 

Jesse wasn't going to let that happen.

 

“I was watchin' porn the other night,” the blonde stated suddenly, letting Sebastian's mouth go in favor of letting the biker start to bite at the curve of his jaw.

 

“Mm-hmm?”

 

“It was these two dudes...”

 

Sebastian gasped softly against his neck, obviously surprised and pleased by this bit of news.

 

“A straight boy like you?” the older man teased.

 

“You wanna hear about it or not?”

 

Sebastian sat back into the couch again, cheeks ruddy and a smile on his face, “Please.”

 

Now that the man was looking him in the eyes he wasn't sure he could say it. He dropped his gaze to the other's soft, holey grey shirt instead. His fingers started playing with the frayed ends of it as he cleared his throat, scrambling for his confidence again.

 

“They jerked off together,” Jesse could still remember blinking at his laptop screen with blurry eyes and his pipe still clutched in his hand, trying to figure out how good it would feel to do it, “Put their dicks together and kind of just...ya'know.”

 

“Interesting,” Sebastian was just playing with him now, acting as if it were an idea he'd never heard of, “I bet we can manage it.”

 

Jesse made a big fuss, pushing the man away by the shoulders and telling him to shut up and forget it. Sebastian took another hit of the grass, set the bong aside, and poured the smoke down the younger man's protesting mouth. Soon enough he coaxed him back into the mood. They worked together to get off each other's pants off, Jesse slipping off his hat and tossing it aside with the rest of their clothes. They got down to their underwear and the blonde perched back on his lap, cuddling up to him like a cat and latching onto his plump mouth.

 

God, Sebastian was fucking sexy, guy or not. Chest hair rasped against his palms as he slid them up and over the man's shoulders, arms wrapping around his back and fingers carding through his thick hair. He moved beneath him like silk and grace personified, like sex come to life. He oozed pheromones and there seemed to be something hot beneath his skin, something addictive in his saliva or something like an incubus or some shit.

 

Sebastian's thumb hooked in the flap of his underwear and slipped the button out, showing off the gleam of his teeth as he did the same to his own underwear. Jesse was vaguely aware of the movements but he was too busy trying to fuse them together at the mouth to notice. What he did feel was the cool air on his cock, then super-heated flesh and a rough hand. He pulled away with a gasp, looking down in wide-eyed wonder to see them pressed together and the man pumping them slowly.

 

Jesse zoned out, the voices of a dozen bullies from his childhood shouting _pretty boy_ and _cocksucker_ in his head. It was the first time his dick had touched another and it sent those increasingly familiar shivers through his body, adrenaline thumping a heavy through his veins. For a moment he couldn't believe what he was doing, never mind how much he was getting off on it. It was a heady mix of good and bad, the two twisted together so tightly that it send intense waves from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. He was practically naked with a guy he barely knew, a man who didn't tell him his last name and who was involved with a violent street gang that beat dealers like him to death in the back of filthy alleys. He was a _man_ , plain and simple. A man who hung out with other burly men and knocked back beers while swimming in bitches. He was hot, he could be with anyone right now.

 

He could be with someone who was ready to go all the way with him, let him fuck them stupid and not get hung up on a sexual identity crisis.

 

“Mmm, my little lynx, you're trembling,” Sebastian pleased hum and smile faded quickly, “Jess, you're shaking. What's wrong?”

 

The older man abandoned their arousals and curled his arms around his hips, hugging him and erasing all the space between their bodies. Jesse hid his red face in his neck, breath hitching when he felt hot skin still straining against his own.

 

“It's alright,” Sebastian did that stupid thing where he seemed to know just what he needed, dropping feather kisses on the skin below his ear while his hands rubbed him in firm circles, “It's a lot. I know it is. Just take a few breaths. I won't push you.”

 

“Shut up,” he hissed in the man's ear, “Don't treat me like some bitch, okay? I've never fuckin' done this so don't fuck with me.”

 

“I'm not,” Sebastian mirrored the grip the younger man had in his hair, lacing his fingers through blonde locks, “Just let yourself feel it, _dragă_. Don't think, don't hurt yourself like that.”

 

Jesse moaned into the kiss he was pulled into, brow creasing as he looked over the man's eager face, “Why are you so fuckin' nice to me?”

 

Sebastian just ate the words up, refusing to answer. Instead they went back to a lazy make-out, the embers of lust getting blown back to full roar, hands and lips soothing over the rough of his nerves like a balm. When the man finally touched them again, not a tremor went through him and he actually found pleasure in it – the kind that he'd imagined when he'd seen those two guys in the porn. The friction was great but he quickly noticed that his dick was getting most of the attention. It was something he usually wouldn't complain about but this was about both of them getting something, about them moving forward, about taking more steps or whatever the fuck logic he'd used. There was no way Seb was going to make him feel fucking selfish again.

 

Jesse grabbed the man's hand, slipping it off their cocks and bringing it up to his mouth. His eyes sought out ice-cold orbs and locked with them, watching the man intently as he dragged his tongue across the calloused palm. It was bitter, musk and salt exploding across his tongue, and it turned him on more than he'd ever imagine something that like could.

 

“You'll get a little more out of it like this,” Jesse husked, giving the ridges of the man's fingers another wet lap, “Bet you come first.”

 

“Probably,” Sebastian's voice quivered in the air, eyes stuck on the way his tongue carved another tantalizing trail over the breadth of his hand, “I have a hot little number in my lap who's all hard and flushed, wanting. I don't know a man with a pumping heart who wouldn't develop a hair-trigger.”

 

Jesse gave a long, low moan as the man grabbed them again. It was slicker now, skilled fingers working them over with much more intent this time. Teeth attached themselves just below his jaw, little bites going down the line of it. He laid his hands flat on Sebastian's chest again, running his nails down and catching dark nipples beneath the edges. The biker hissed and bucked up, grip tightening.

 

“Little cheater.”

 

“You better not treat me all gentle, asshole,” his eyes fell closed as a thumb pressed hard on the underside of his dick, sending a pure electric bolt up into his gut, “Fuck.”

 

Jesse had never had someone kiss him so much. He was going to have a punch-swollen mouth by the end of the night and he was strangely okay with it. Getting off by himself had never felt like this. This was strong. Even if it was just a hand, it was already better than the tricks Sapphire or any other bitch had tried to pull. The bastard knew just how to touch and stroke, where to press. And the sensation of someone feeling just as much, the pulse of another right beside his own-

 

“Motherfucker,” Jesse definitely did not whine against the man's lips.

 

The crest hit him over the head, tilting his world on the side. He clung to Sebastian desperately in an attempt to stay grounded, making little noises in the back of his throat as his orgasm ripped through him. He felt a sharp bite to his lower lip but he didn't mind. He lost himself for a minute or two, just riding it out and letting himself enjoy it.

 

When he finally pulled back from the biker's mouth, he looked down and fond them both covered in each other. Jizz had splattered over their stomachs and thighs, their boxers, a speck even catching on the older man's chest. Sebastian had his head tipped back on the couch, hands lazily resting on the side of the blonde's thighs. He looked boneless

 

“You...?” he blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of it, “You got off?”

 

“Oh yeah,” the other grinned widely, the ice in his eyes dulled down to the color of soft snow at night, “You are gorgeous when you come, do you know that?”

 

He shivered, and not from the cold, “Seb.”

 

“I'm serious.” Sebastian sat up and put his arms around him, flipping the blonde over so he laid out along the couch. Jesse found himself too distracted by his attempts to bite at Seb's mouth (to make it as sore as his own) to feel the man tucking them away. There was a tug of the button sliding back into place. His cocky confidence returned as he was covered up, the vulnerability swaddled away under his persona. The weight on top of him was like a heavy blanket, except this blanket was scratching through his hair and running tickling fingertips across his ribs.

 

“That was...” Jesse bumped their foreheads, smirking when he saw that peach lips had flushed the color of blood, “Thanks for getting us all fucking sticky.”

 

“My pleasure,” the ravenette stretched out along the slighter man's body, laying with him in a way that didn't crush him, “My shower is huge. We should make use of it.”

 

“Yeah,” he leaned into the touch in his hair, “Let's do that.”

 

*******

 

The bathroom had always been sizeable but he'd only caught glimpses of the shower through the frosted glass. It was bigger than he'd estimated, made of chilly tile and thankfully a dull grey color instead of blindingly white. They were both tired from the weed and the sex, bodies turning sluggish.

 

Jesse hesitated to strip but the biker made him laugh and ease up by making a show of covering his eyes and trying to turn on the tap. He shot out a few jokes about maiden modesty and withholding honor and the awkwardness passed. When he finally did strip down to his birthday suit he was treated to a grateful smile.

 

“You wanna take a fuckin' picture or something, man?” Jesse smacked him with his filthy boxers, getting the man to dodge, “Yeah, that's what I thought. Start that shit up.”

“What my lynx wants...”

 

The shower was turned just the right amount of hot and Jesse was ushered in first, putting his face right beneath the spray. It felt like pure heaven. The room steamed up fast, filling his lungs with a sweet pressure. Sebastian pressed up behind him but he didn't mind, even with strength and advantage the man had on him. There was no reason to worry, especially not now. Not after what they'd just done.

 

Sebastian's mouth touched his ear, “Promise not to hate me if I say something kind of sappy?”

 

Jesse chuckled, eyes closed while the water beat down on his face, “You can't say nothin' to upset me right now, yo. I'm floatin'.”

 

Sebastian curled tighter around him, slipping the soap into the younger man's hands. It was like that for a long minute, slow soaping and basking while they let the evidence of their pleasure slide off their skin and swirl down the drain.

 

“I could get used to this.”

 

Jesse turned around, touching the man's shoulders with sudsy digits. He stole a quick, uncertain kiss and tried not to look him in the eyes. His stomach did a jump kick into his lungs and almost made him spit out his words.

 

“Me too.”

 

*******

 

The second time Jesse rode on Sebastian's Harley, it was a much slower experience. It was early noon but the sky was stone grey and cold, leaving the world almost barren. The streets and sidewalks were empty, only two cars passing them in all the city blocks between their houses. Even though they were miles apart on every level (financially, status, emotionally) they were only ever actually within seven miles of each other.

 

Sebastian stopped them in front of the gate, killing the engine. Jesse shed his helmet and fumbled to strap it on the Harley again, the older man's hand coming back to finish it off.

 

“I really want to kiss you senseless right now,” Sebastian declared, taking off his shades and smiling up at the blonde, “But I don't want to piss off your neighbors. I wouldn't want to damage your reputation.”

 

“The worst they'll do is call my mom,” Jesse assured him, but his eyes were dancing from window to window to see if any of those nosey housewives were peeking through. They both knew they had to be at least somewhat careful for a whole shit-ton of reasons. Instead of sharing a good-bye kiss, Sebastian ran two of his fingers down the boy's sleeve and tapped the back of his hand.

 

“Last night...” the biker wet his lips, “I really enjoyed it. I wanted to know if...more hoping that...you've been enjoying yourself as well?”

“Fuck yeah I have,” Jesse clapped his hand in a shake, pulling him in to a manly hug that bumped their shoulders, “This has been-” _some of the best nights of my life_ “-pretty fucking cool.”

 

“Cool enough for you to keep me around?” he needled.

 

“Maybe,” Jesse's hand lingered on the man's shoulder, fingers squeezing the muscle, “I wanna try some more shit. I-If you're into it, I mean.”

 

“I would be very 'into it'.”

 

“I wanna...” Jesse chewed his lip so hard it ached, “Ya'know. Whatever.”

 

Sebastian watched the movement and his gloves creaked on the handles of the Harley, “I can imagine in vivid detail, _dragă_.”

 

Jesse's breath audibly hitched, “One day you're gonna have to tell me what the fuck that means.”

 

“One day you'll know everything about me,” Sebastian said it like a promise, “As I'd like to say about you.”

 

“Man,” he drew out the word, trying to be playful, “Once you know everything you're not gonna want to come back. I'm pretty boring after a while.”

 

Sebastian frowned sincerely, “You could never be boring, Jesse. Don't ever say that.”

 

Those words stuck inside him like sap, seeping around his heart and into his lungs until he had to lay down on the couch and think on them and what they really meant.

 

*********

 

The bedroom door closed with a solid click, the lock slid in place only after Jesse gave the okay nod.

 

“Chibs and Jax have keys, sometimes they just bust in,” Sebastian informed him, “Are you sure you're ready? We don't have to rush anything.”

 

“It's only fair, right?” Jesse's shirt was already abandoned on the couch along with his socks and shoes, “You've seen all 'a me at this point.”

 

As always, Sebastian looked patient, “If you don't want to-”

 

“I do!” Jesse blurted out, quickly quieting himself, “I do, man, okay? I've been wantin' to for a while. It's a big step or whatever so take your God damn pants off and quit givin' me those puppy eyes.”

 

“I don't want to rush you,” Sebastian started popping off the buttons to his shirt, “And, most importantly to my ego, I don't want overwhelm you with – well – ”

 

“What?” he snorted, “Your dick?”

 

“I was going to say 'nudity', but 'dick' works just as well,” the biker tossed the shirt onto his dresser, “Sit.”

 

Jesse perched himself at the end of the bed, fingers hooking into the blanket. It felt like his heart was lodged up in his throat. Every muscle was tight with nerves. He could hear his own breathing and it sounded like a sputtering car, the farthest thing from sexy. It all felt so formal. They weren't in the living room for once. This time they'd made the long trek to his bedroom. It was as dark as the man's hair, everything swathed in in colors that were probably named midnight topaz and black grape. It was a big contrast from the welcome, smoky front room. In here, everything was shadowed. He felt as if he could sink into the lacquered wood floor and never come back up.

 

The man's undershirt went next, exposing his chest. It was thick and strong, a heavy contrast to his scrawny form. The biker wasn't so much bigger than him but like this – both naked from the waist up – it was more than obvious who the stronger one was.

 

“Does that guy Juice have a key too?” Jesse asked, mostly to distract himself.

 

“Of course,” Sebastian started on his jeans next, “He's one of my best friends. I trust him.”

 

“You let the guy who's fucking your daddy-figure have a key to your place?” Jesse's rough-bitten nails were scratching almost painfully against the blanket, “Weird.”

 

“I try not to think of it like that, but thank you for pointing it out.” Sebastian started toward him in just his underwear. It wasn't a threatening stride but it made him tense up nonetheless. The dark haired man dropped down to his knees in front of him, letting his thumb touch just below his chin. Jesse was coaxed into a kiss, one that started slow but ignited their dimming lust.

 

He hooked a leg around the man's hips and dragged him closer, hands shooting off the blanket to dig in to the pale expanse of back that was offered to him. Sebastian nipped at his lips and carded fingers through his hair, sending electric shocks straight to his cock. In retaliation he scored pretty pink lines over his shoulders, the act dragging several rough gasps from the older man. It reminded him of why he was here. He wanted to get Sebastian, make the man lose his cool and drag him down until he felt what Jesse felt. Insecure, vulnerable, overwhelmed.

 

He wanted the man to be just as obsessed about him as he himself was getting.

 

Sebastian broke their kiss to catch enough breath to speak, “Do you want to try now?”

 

Anxiety pulsed through his desire, tainting it. He nodded anyway, figuring it was either now or never. Sebastian grinned and stood, putting the blonde eye to eye with his navel and the swell of his covered cock. Jesse found himself ripped in two; one half burning itself up with the pure _need_ to get his hands on the man's handsome body, while the other screamed at him for doing something like this. His father's voice burrowed into his ears, whispering biting words like _filthy_ and _disgusting._ Then he looked up at Sebastian and saw the man so happy, beaming down at him like he was Jesus coming back from the dead or something. How was he going to disappoint that face? How could he say no to someone who was so nice to him?

 

Jesse raised his hands up and laid them on the man's hips, fingers tucking under his waistband. He took two slow, deep breaths and closed his eyes. He steeled himself and did what he'd set out to do, pulling down the material until the man's hard cock slipped free. As Sebastian stepped out of him, Jesse tried to gauge exactly what he was feeling. It wasn't as bad as he thought. The actual dick didn't freak him out. Aesthetically it was good, like the ones in the raunchy porn he watched. A little thicker than his own, the head flushed and heavy, and (with a pang of jealousy) he noted it was longer than his own too. It wasn't repulsive and that had to be a good thing.

 

Despite his nerves, Jesse couldn't deny that the total package had his jaw falling open. His chest was smooth, bare of any hair. He had a thick pack of muscle on his stomach, strong ropes of pure muscle lacing up his arms and across his shoulders, deep lines cut themselves into his hips that led to his groin. Those ripe-peach lips were reddened from their harsh kisses, hair ruffled and sticking up, nipples dark and just peaked enough to make his teeth itch to bite them.

 

The most important part was that he was looking down at him with fire in his gaze, passion showing in the sweat that slicked his skin. Sebastian looked ravenous. It made him feel wanted and that wasn't something he got very often.

 

Jesse leaned in and kissed the man's hip bone, breathing in the salt and musk of his skin. He kind of liked it in that weird way that made him give the man a second look in the first place. He closed his eyes and kissed the skin, trying to ignore the fine tremble that was working its way up from the bottom of his stomach. The thought of touching another man's dick for the first time was getting to him more than he had thought it would. He hadn't been this terrified since his first time, and even then he had some more weed in him to smooth the way.

 

Keeping his eyes shut and going by touch, he moved down until his lips met smooth skin. He tried to remember what girls had done to him and what had felt good, his racing mind struggling to come up with memories of what even Sebastian had done to him. The man above him moaned out loud, a hand resting on his shoulder while his smooth voice tried to reassure him. Telling him to go slow, that he was doing well. Shit, they'd been making out and groping each other for like a half hour, this should be nothing.

 

His mouth closed over the head and he tasted Sebastian more thoroughly, starch covering his tongue quickly as the man grew more excited. It was physical evidence that the biker was into it, that he wanted it. Maybe that desire was what he needed to go on, maybe it was too much of him to process.

 

Jesse drew away from him with a sharp gasp, shaking his head. Sebastian was instantly on his knees again, cupping his face and dropping kisses on his cheeks.

 

“You're alright, Jess,” the man kissed his mouth, “Just relax.”

“I'm fine,” Jesse pushed at his chest but it was weak at best, “Just give me a God damn second.”

 

“If you're so okay, then open your eyes.”

 

Jesse realized he still had them shut but he couldn't, not yet. His heart was still fluttering wildly. Sebastian moved around him until his bare chest was resting against his back, arms curling around him. He sunk into the embrace, an embarrassed flush heating up his face.

 

“I'm sorry,” the words tripped over each other trying to get out of his mouth, “I wanted to, I did, man. I don't know what's wrong with me. I just-”

 

Sebastian's hand came up and lightly covered his mouth, effectively cutting off his stupid rant. The man's thumb ran over his cheek, lips skimming his neck. His pulse finally settled down under the ministrations, lashes fluttering open. The room hadn't changed. He hadn't changed.

 

“Proud of you,” Sebastian's breath danced over his ear, “I wish you would've told me to stop when it became too much. I don't want to make you do anything you want to do, Jesse. Never.”

 

The man's palm fell from his lips, leaving them tingling.

 

“I wanna try again,” Jesse turned his head, kissing the side of his face.

 

“Later,” the old man promised, “We should order something and go back to the couch.”

Jesse frowned to himself. Didn't Sebastian want him? Didn't he want to get off?

 

“You should stay the night,” the hand on his chest rubbed across his clavicle, giving him good shivers, “We can fool around later.”

 

“Yeah, okay.”

 

Relief bloomed in his chest, twisting into something more that he couldn't put a name on. Affection, like what he used to have for the dog at his parents’ house. That mutt was the only one who would ever pay attention to him, the only one to love him when everyone else either didn't see him or just wanted something from him. Whatever it was called, it was warm, and it made him melt like one of those girls in a dime store romance novel.

 

Jesse cracked a smile, “Think we can get some wings up in here?”

 

“For you, sweetheart?” the kiss Sebastian smacked on his cheek was comically loud and kind of wet, making his grin just a little wider, “Anything.”

 

*********

 

The New Mexico sun was unforgiving, beating down on the two men in the tar driveway without mercy. Their t-shirt collars were soaked through, the beers sitting in the shade of the car sweating in thick drops that sunk into the ice bucket. Jesse's car was hot to the touch but it didn't stop the two men from going over it, the younger one filling it up with the needed fluids while the darker crawled in the dirt and gravel to check out below it.

 

“A 1984 Toyota Tercel,” Sebastian whistled lowly, sliding out from beneath the car and up onto his feet with one smooth motion, “This is, uh, something.”

 

“ 'Something'?” Jesse spat out, “This is my _baby_ , yo. She's gorgeous. Built her up myself.”

 

“I believe you,” Sebastian dipped his head below the hood, fingers tracing around the engine and tucking under the lines, “The hydraulics are pretty good. Cheap parts but good work. But overall, you could do better.”

 

Jesse scrunched up his nose, “Bullshit.”

 

“With some kind of cheesy vanity plate, a chipped paint job, it's all very cliché,” Sebastian reached out and lightly punched the blonde in the shoulder, “Plus...you're a little too white to have a car that bounces.”

 

Jesse argued the finer points of his car for the next twenty minutes, only stopping when he saw the the older man was just smiling.

  
“What?”

 

“You didn't put a hat on today,” Sebastian pointed out, gesturing to his head.

 

Jesse ran a hand through his hair self-consciously, “Shut up, man.”

 

When they were parting ways by the gate (i.e. kissing behind the fence where no one from the street could see them), Sebastian took a spare breath to ask him a question he hadn't expected.

 

“What does your plate mean, anyway?” the man nudged their noses, “The Captain?”

 

“It's just a name I picked up in high school,” the blonde grabbed his chin and tilted him down, “Now shut up.”

 

*********

 

The only reason his knees didn't hurt was the soft give of the mattress beneath them. He had no idea how long he'd been at this because it would be kind of fucking rude to pop up and check the clock. The ache in his jaw and the pang going down his neck told him it had to have been at least twenty minutes, maybe more. Shit, he was still in his jeans. They were starting to itch.

 

Sebastian sounded so fucking good, writing around beneath his hands and making all these sweet little noises. The biker was naked only because he'd put up an argument that it would make Jesse feel more in control if he was completely bare (a show of power even if they both knew the older had at least twenty pounds of muscle on him). He moaned like a porn star but it sounded genuine, like he was actually into it.

 

After getting over the 'having an actual dick in his mouth' wall, it wasn't nearly as terrifying as he'd made it out to be. It was uncomfortable but there was a rush knowing that he could reduce Sebastian down to begging and panting with just the power of his lips and tongue. The solid weight of his cock, the musk, the adrenaline rush – he could get used to this.

 

“Jess,” Sebastian slurred like he was drunk, “ _Dragă_ , I... _nu poate dura. Chomh maith_.”

 

That was a mash-up. It sounded like bastardized Irish and whatever that other language he spoke in, harsh words that came from deep within his throat. Jesse didn't need to know what he was saying to hear the urgency, to feel the man's body straining and flexing as his climax came up on him. Sebastian came with a sharp cry, fingers brushing through Jesse's hair but not daring to tug or push. He swallowed down the hot spill of seed, elation swelling up in his chest. He'd barely gotten it all down before he drew back on his knees, smirking at the blissed-out ravenette and throwing his hands up.

 

“Yes!” Jesse whooped in victory, punching the air enthusiastically, “I fucking did it! Take that, _dick_! I _own_ your ass now, Seb, you can't even fucking deny it! I was so God damn good! Did you see that?” He slapped his chest. “Champion fucking cocksucker, right here!”

 

Jesse fell back onto the bed, his smug expression turned up to the ceiling. He'd done it. He'd sucked his first dick and had actually made Sebastian come. It had taken two weeks and at least a dozen failed tries, but he'd stuck with it this time. It felt good, like he'd accomplished something. That, and his own cock was rock hard. The triumph smothered any shame he might have felt and (to be honest) it was a weight off his chest.

 

Sebastian sat up, bedroom eyes in full effect while he sported a Cheshire Cat grin. He looked...for lack of a better word, happy. He took one long look at Jesse and started a full belly laugh, eyes crinkling up and teeth flashing in the lamp light. For a second he thought he was the butt end of some unspoken joke but a sound like that couldn't be interpreted as malicious. It was carefree and sweet, amused at worst.

 

“Whatcha laughing at?” Jesse inquired, sitting up on his elbows.

 

“Nothing,” Sebastian bussed the back of his hand over his mouth, like he was trying to wipe the expression away, “You're beautiful. That's all.”

 

“I'm...?” the blonde bristled, “Shut up, dude. Men aren't pretty.”

 

“You are,” Sebastian started a languid crawl up his body, the bold touch of his fingers on the younger man's fly showing his intent, “Thank you for that.”

 

“Oh God, Seb, don't get all sappy on me,” Jesse glanced down at the swell of his jeans, “Just, you know, return the favor.”

 

“Crude,” Sebastian teased, pecking his lips.

“Yeah, but you love me this way,” Jesse chuckled, the sound cutting off when he realized just what he'd said, “I mean, uh, just-”

 

“I do,” the kiss was firmer this time, the smile still on his face, “I'm going to make you see stars.”

 

A relieved giggle left him, “Promises, promises.”

 

*********

 

Jesse walked into the living room, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and following his ears. He could hear Sebastian rummaging around in his kitchen, probably looking for breakfast. The biker had unexpectedly come over late last night after work. He's stayed up long enough to bitch about his boss (Clay, or whatever), take off his clothes, and give him a kiss before falling asleep on him. It was the first time Sebastian had come over to do nothing; no meal or sex to gloss it over. Admittedly, it'd been nice to fall asleep with someone. It was a rare occurrence for him on the whole and he (if only in his head) wanted more of it.

 

Jesse dropped his hands as his jaw cracked open for a yawn. His eyes fell on the table, lips smacking loudly a few times before his vision focused up enough for him to realize what he'd left out. A pipe and his lighter, burnt at the bottom in the way you didn't need for weed. It was in plain view. He let out a nervous laugh (though he was going for casual), looking for even a speck of meth but finding none.

 

“You know, I've always preferred pipes,” the statement was overly loud and awkward, even to his own ears, “I always tear paper and bongs are way too much work.”

 

Sebastian grumbled something that might not have even been English, stumbling out of the kitchen with his eyes all squinted up. He only had a pair of boxers on and even they were sliding, revealing dark hair and the cut of his hip. He looked ruffled and tired, but the curve of his constant smile was still there.

 

“Do you have any coffee, love?” he rasped, scratching at his stomach.

 

“Yeah, man, it's in there.”

 

He waited until Sebastian had turned back to the cabinets before he tucked the pipe away under the couch, jumping back up like a cat in case he was caught. Of course, the man wasn't paying him the least bit of attention.

 

“Hold up, yo, let me get it.”

 

*******

 

 _Halo_ was his jam. He'd bought it the moment it had hit shelves and he'd been boss at it ever since. Every installment, every version, and every spin-off – he owned them. Sebastian had put up a good fight but the man just couldn't keep up. This one was multiplayer and online, giving him the biggest virtual playground to show off in. In the back of his mind, he was already planning on leaving it here to kick his ass more often.

 

“Don't even bother, yo!” Jesse laughed, moving, “You can't beat The Captain. I know all, I see all, and-” He delivered a swift shot to the other man's character, his avatar flickering out of the game. “- _boom_! I be all!”

 

“Shit,” Sebastian tossed down his own controller, huffing and flopping down into the plush leather. The blonde was on the floor, the coffee table pushed out of the way to make room for their popcorn and bong. It was a new one; it almost measured the length of a torso and looked like blown glass. Red stained the bottom and it faded from orange into a light tangerine all the way up to the top. Jesse had bought it himself, his way of contributing to their little date nights. They already had a few hits in them and the biker had given the pipe his stamp of approval.

 

“Next round, bitch,” Jesse reared up on his knees, selecting the new map. He put it on online teams (each of them on different ones) and let it load up, fingers itching to take down some pixelated bad guys. He heard Sebastian get up, and he was sure the man was going to go get more beer but then he felt someone drop down behind him. Familiar, strong arms wrapped around his middle and teeth latched onto the curve of his neck. He pressed back into him and groaned, moving his head to the side and keeping his eyes on the screen. A hard edge touched his stomach and he realized the man was still playing, although sloppily from the way he died twice in just the first minute.

 

“You markin' me up there, shithead?” Jesse got his guy up into a building as quickly as he could, practically dancing past the other team. He was aiming for a high spot to set up a sniper point.

 

“Mm-hmm,” Sebastian skimmed his teeth over the reddening skin, “I was thinking...”

 

“That's dangerous.”

 

“I want to try something a little different tonight.” His avatar died again and Sebastian took the opportunity to run a hand over the growing bulge in the younger man's jeans. “Would you be up to it?”

 

“Oh, Seb, I'm up for everything,” Jesse took two soldiers out with three quick flicks of the trigger button, “Though if you're tryin' to distract me, I'm gonna tell you right now that I'll kick your ass every day of the week.”

 

“I'm sure,” there was another nip at his sensitive neck, “Let's go. Pause the game.”

 

“It's online, yo, there's no pausing.”

 

Sebastian's fingers slipped under the waistband of his jeans, a hot tongue swirling over his pulse point.

 

Jesse's lashes fluttered, “Okay, okay. Quit playin' dirty, I'm pausing it.”

 

*******

 

They had their fists in each other’s shirts, stumbling into the bedroom attached at the mouth. As usual, the first thing Sebastian did was rip the blonde's hat off and flung it somewhere in the corner.

 

“Strip,” the biker nibbled at the swell of his lower lip.

 

“You strip,” he shot back. They tried to hide their cheeky grins as they broke apart to peel off their socks, belts clicking loudly as their pants pooled on the carpet. Their shirts joined them before they crashed together again, curling around one another and capturing lips. They kissed hard, slowly moving back until their knees bumped into the edge of the mattress. They fell, Sebastian's hand groping the slighter man's ass while Jesse chewed a pretty bright mark on the man's collarbone. With only their underwear separating them, they made out and rolled around like teenagers. They chuckled, the sounds trailing off into moans as it got more heated.

 

Jesse let out an 'oof' as the older man slapped a hand down onto his chest. He tried to sit up, maybe take control, only to get shoved back down. “I get it. You wanna play rough? I can do that.”

 

“Not tonight,” Sebastian tisked, “We can get as rough as you want after you're used to it. Right now, let me take care of you.”

 

“Whatcha' plannin' for me?” Jesse asked, a thread of uncertainty in his voice now.

 

“Nothing you haven't asked for,” Sebastian swore, getting up and snatching a tube of lube off the dresser. He gave it a good shake before climbing back onto the bed, a cattish grin taking his lips. “And nothing you won't enjoy.”

 

Jesse sat up on his elbows, trying to slide out from beneath the man as he crawled over him. “Seb, man, wait. I-I'm not ready for this yet. Maybe we should-”

 

Sebastian wrapped his fingers along his shoulder, halting his retreat, “Shh, _dragă_. We're not going all the way.”

 

“ 'All the way'? What are we, in a after school special?” Jesse snorted out a relieved laugh, “You gonna lecture me on the importance of abstinence and how I should save myself for someone special?”

 

“You better be saving yourself for me,” Sebastian growled, yanking him up into a thorough kiss. Their tongues slid together, tasting and taking until the salt of the chips and the bitter tang of the wee was gone.

 

“Idiot,” Jesse gasped against his lips, “I've had sex before.”

 

But he let himself get pulled back under Sebastian. The man was obscenely warm and it felt good fucking good to have all that muscle caging him in. Anyone else and it would've had him sucker punching and running for the hills. But even as the man took his lips and slid a heavy thigh between his legs, he knew he wasn't in any danger. It was something he was feeling more and more around the biker – _safe_.

 

Sebastian started down his body, teeth leaving sweetly stinging spots down his chin and neck. His breath hitched as sharp teeth dug into his Adam's Apple and the hollow of his throat; there would be bruises there tomorrow morning, he knew it. He threaded his fingers into tar colored hiar, getting a fistful in hopes of keeping himself from drifting away. Every kiss and lick send him higher, fogging up his mind until he didn't care what the man was going to do with the lube. A swift bite to the nipple made him jolt nearly pulling a few strands out in surprise.

 

“So sensitive for me,” a soft soothed the ache.

 

“I'm not this way for you, or anyone else,” he argued. It was weak when he was trying to swallow down moans.

 

“Bullshit, my little lynx,” Sebastian dragged his nails down the slighter man's sides, sending shocks through his ribs. “You love this. I bet you've dreamed about it.”

“Fuck you, man.”

 

“Mm-hmm.”

 

Sebastian's generous mouth slid down his shaft. His tongue set him apart from anyone else who had ever gone down on him. It flicked over the tip and pressed just beneath the head, every firm stroke sending another jolt through his hips. Thumbs pressed on the insides of his thighs, urging them to part. He obeyed. While the biker was trying to suck his brain out through his dick, slick fingers grazed the underside of his balls. A blush stained Jesse's face when he realized where this was going.

 

_Don't panic. Don't panic._

 

There was enough pressure for him to feel it now.

 

_It's going to be okay. It's going to feel good._

 

Teeth grazed sensitive skin, making him moan.

 

“Don't think, _dragă_ , just feel it.”

Sebastian pulled back and grasped his dick, saliva making it nice and slick. He spread his legs wider, wanting more, _needing_ more.

 

“Talk to me,” Jesse rasped, the back of his tattooed hand thrown over his eyes as he tried not to melt away from embarrassment. “Want your mouth in some way, man.”

 

“Shh-shh,” Sebastian soothed, pressing kisses across the sensitive flesh of his cock before nipping just below his belly button. Jesse covered his eyes and let himself moan more freely, body moving in the rhythm of the other's hand. The biker seemed to take his request to heart and soon a steady slew of filth started to fill the room.

 

“You're going to look so pretty when I finally fuck you.”

 

A finger finally slid in, a sensation he was used to from his own jerk off sessions. From his brief Google searches he knew not to clamp down or else make it ten times worse.

 

“I could put you in my lap.” Sebastian's finger slowly worked him open. “Keep you real close. I'd rock in nice and slow so you feel every inch. It wouldn't hurt at all like that, it would just feel so _full_. You'd probably shed a few sweet tears but what pain there was would hurt so good you wouldn't care.”

 

Jesse spotted the man's shit-eating grin through the crack of his fingers. His lust-addled brain started following along with the sinful voice, painting the pictures the man was describing. It made him leak against his stomach. He had always liked dirty talk.

 

The man inhaled softly, the words affecting him just as much. “You could ride me instead. You'd have all the control. I'd love to watch you bounce on my cock. With your thighs? I'd come in a minute just watching you flex and take your pleasure.”

 

Jesse cried out when the man pushed down on his prostate, his hand flying from his mouth so his fingers could catch a death grip on the sheets. His eyes screwed shut as he tried to put enough pieces of his brain back together to tell the man to slow it down or else make him shoot.

 

“Down the line, I'm going to take you when you least expect it.” There were three fingers inside him now. “I'll grab you by the neck and bend you over the kitchen table. Shove your pants down, lick your sweet hole open until you're mewling...and then I'd shove my cock right in. I could make you beg. I bet I could make the neighbors call the cops.”

 

Jesse strained up against those thick digits, the white noise buzzing between his ears telling him he was edging toward the edge.

 

“That's it. Give in to it,” Sebastian crooned, stroking over his prostate without mercy, “I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. Not without you.”

 

For some reason, Jesse believed him. The words went straight to his groin and he felt himself spill over the man's fingers, the pressure of the man's fingers within him only heightening the sensation. White speckled behind his eyelids and his mouth let loose a whole slew of embarassing noises. He melted bonelessly into the mattress and let his arm fall away, revealing his face for the first time since the encounter began.

 

He wasn't sure how long he'd been zoned out when lips bussed his cheek.

 

“You alright in there?”

 

Jesse groped blindly until he found the soft give of the man's hair, giving it a tug.

 

“Yeah, man, never better.”

 

*******

 

The diner was almost abandoned. It was just some hole in the wall on a corner in a backstreet, nothing to write home about. The burgers were greasy and the fries were saturated with salt. There was a surly short-order cook peeking in and out of the order window, and the floors looked like they hadn't been scrubbed since the place opened.

 

It was perfect.

 

Their waitress was busty with no shame, flashing them whenever she got a chance in hopes of a good tip. Her name was Foxy (of all things) and had great legs for someone who was probably pushing thirty. Sebastian watched her with sly 'come hither' eyes that made her flutter. He'd shoot a wink in Jesse's direction every time it worked.

 

“Women are just beautiful, don't you think?” Sebastian tongued the salt off his thumb like a child, though the way his teeth lingered over the digit was anything but innocent, “Curves for days. It's only a shame they can't fuck you without the aid of toys. If they could, then they'd be perfect.”

 

Jesse chewed on his straw, watching Foxy bend over the counter to talk to another waitress, “You seem fine swinging both ways. Think you could ever chose?”

 

“Never,” Sebastian sighed, “I love the human body. I appreciate beauty in every form.”

 

“Equal opportunity,” Jesse tasted the words in his mouth, wondering if he was jealous or not. He mulled it over but was pulled out of his idle thoughts when he felt that piercing stare focused on him now. He looked over and sure enough Sebastian was ogling him, looking at him the very same way he'd looked at Foxy (though he'd like to think it was with a bit more intensity).

 

“I'd take your cute little ass over her ample one any day,” Sebastian promised.

 

“You could fuck her right now and I wouldn't care,” the blonde shot back.

 

Dark brows shot up, “Truly?”

 

“It's not like I own you or anything,” Jesse shoved another onion ring in his mouth, “We're not doin' anything exclusive here. It's just fun, right?”

 

Sebastian tapped thoughtfully at his plate half a dozen times before he agreed. “It's just casual.”

 

“Yeah. Duh,” he sucked up some pop to wash down the salt, “What? You thought-?”

 

“No! No, of course not,” Sebastian assured him, waving his hand in a placating gesture, “I just didn't know how comfortable you were with everything.”

 

“I'm so okay, yo.”

 

*******

 

He was _so not_ okay.

 

Jesse was spread out on his bed, arm thrown over his head while the other rested on his stomach. He rubbed the exposed flesh of his belly, drawing idle patterns as his thoughts took a sour turn. Everything had been going fine until that stupid fucking waitress. She hadn't even been that hot! She was just some old broad and Sebastian had been looking at her like she was prime meat.

 

It wasn't even her he was mad at, it was that damn biker. He had him so wound up that he even spent his free nights thinking about him. Just because he was good looking and could do wicked things with his tongue and give him some of the best orgasms he'd ever had _didn't_ mean he could be the center of his world. Sebastian was just some guy, just another casual fling that would temper off.

 

Was he actually okay with Sebastian being with anyone else?

 

Jesse closed his eyes on the dark bedroom, conjuring up the image of Sebastian with some girl. At first they were faceless, just two bodies driving against one another. Then the details started to come into focus. He gave her long, curly brown ringlets and tan skin. Red nails, mile-long legs, and cherry lips. Then Sebastian came into play with his ice eyes and pale skin, all muscle and power and tar colored hair. He'd suck her tits, cup the generous flesh of her ass and help her down onto the thick of his cock. He'd give her all she could take, bounce like her like a damn carnival ride until she screamed.

 

Jesse shook his head sharply, jostling the thought so hard it cracked and shattered. It melted down and reformed into something else, something more familiar. Sebastian pinning a man down this time, one with the same colored brown hair but cut short. He'd grab him by the scruff of his neck and force him into the mattress, leaving him open and at his mercy. He'd drive into him hard, harder than he would with a woman. No screams this time, only grunts and low whines of pleasure edged by pain.

 

His eyes snapped open but the images stayed, swirling together until Sebastian was surrounded by willing and lustful flesh. His stomach churned and bile burned the back of his throat. He couldn't take the fantasies if only because they weren't fantasies, they were things that were probably happening right now. How many times had Sebastian fucked a girl or let some twink suck his dick before coming over to see him?

 

The uncertainty swallowed up his brain until he was sick with betrayal. Feeling stupid and used, Jesse sat up and leaned over the bed. Shaking hands dug through a pile of clothes until they fished up a bag of crystal and a pipe, a lighter was dug out of an old pair of pants. He dropped a few ugly pieces into the bowl and lit it as quickly as he could, sucking the hit up greedily. It shot through his mind like a bullet, punching out all those poisonous scenes until even their fragments were burned up.

 

Jesse smoked until all he could remember was the rasp of Sebastian's beard against his mouth and how good the man made him feel about himself.

* * *

**Review? Pretty please? You all have been so supportive, and I'm so happy that those of you who've decided to give this thing a shot have loved it so much. Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter just as much. Gif set[here](http://emono-omae.tumblr.com/post/79225544381/believe-me-draga-it-would-be-no-hardship-for-me).**

 

 


	3. The Next Step/A Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys go to the next level. The story has just started.

“Seb? Baby!” Jesse drawled teasingly, shouldering open the man's front door and shaking the six pack so the bottles rattled together, “I got beer and I scored big tonight! It was a big payday, yo, and the drinks are on me. Let's turn on some-”

 

Jesse cut himself off when he got a good look at the room. Two men were on the couch, Xbox controllers in their hands and beers scattered on the table. The bong was out and sitting at their feet, still smoking with smoldering remains in the bowl.

 

“Shit.”

 

Juice was staring at him like he'd walked in on them fucking.

 

“Uh...Seb, man, I'll go.” Jesse thumbed behind him, “Sorry, yo, didn't mean to interrupt anything.”  


“Nonsense,” Sebastian jumped off the couch, rushing up to him and wrapping his arms around his waist, “Come here.”

 

“Whoa,” the biker's mouth ate tenderly at his neck, teasing the skin, “Dude, not in front of people.”

 

“It's just Juicey-boy,” Sebastian chuckled, holding him tighter and making his back bow, “He can't say anything when he's boffing our Vice. God you taste good, Jess.”

 

Jesse's lashes fluttered as the man bit a mark into his pulse point, trying to mark him, “Seb...”

 

“Missed you, little lynx,” Sebastian slid a hand down to grab his ass, “You look cute.”

 

Jesse blushed, shoving the older man away. He would never admit it but he'd picked his tightest t-shirt and his loosest pants, hoping for a good time the moment he got in the door. He'd floated half-baked notions of getting pinned up against the wall like the first time he'd been over here. Get some rough treatment, some free weed, a little praise, some comfort, and maybe get him to give him more than three fingers this time. But his plans were shit now.

 

“I'll go.” Juice put down his controller, still staring at the dealer like he was trying to figure out why the fuck he was even there. Jesse was torn between puffing out his chest and running out of there.

 

“Yo, stay.” The older man finally released him. “We can all hang out together, right? No big deal. Friend of Seb's is a friend of mine.” Juice was still glaring. “Right?”

 

Sebastian looked between the two men, full-on puppy dog’s eyes going. The Puerto Rican biker's expression visibly softened up and he shrugged, sitting back down obediently. He felt his chest unwind, breath coming a little easier as a sense of acceptance washed through it.

 

“Let's get drunk, bitches!” Jesse declared, catching sight of the table again and counting out the bottles, “Uh...hold up, yo, let me catch up.”

 

***

 

Jesse snored himself awake. He coughed a little and blinked his eyes open, vision filled up with the ceiling and not much else. The room was darker than when he'd tipped his head back earlier, the TV still playing some late night rerun game of basketball. He wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand and looked around, getting his bearings.

 

He could remember eating enough chips and drinking enough beer to make his stomach hurt. He got his ass kicked by Juice at _Halo_ , Sebastian had gotten them to talk, and then they'd been like teenage boys for the rest of the night. Laughing, taking a hit now and then, and talking cars.

 

There was a weight in his lap. Sebastian's head was laying on his thigh, the man sound asleep and stretched along the length of the couch. He was quiet and still, chest rising and falling with each soft breath. Jesse's lips twitched up crookedly, fingers finding their way through dark hair. He was just twisting a particularly thick lock around his finger when he realized he was being stared at.

 

Juice was still there. He was reclining in one of the leather armchairs, a beer in his hand and his gaze settled on the two men on the couch. He looked thoughtful in the dancing light of the TV, less threatening than he'd been at the garage. It quickly grew uncomfortable with the biker just...staring. It was like he'd done something wrong, even with the easy way they'd been going on earlier. 

 

Jesse tried to move Sebastian's head off his lap, planning his escape route and apology bailing text. The older man snuffled and flipped over, wrapping his arms around the blonde's ribs and nuzzling into his stomach. The damn octopus. It was too endearing for him to get mad and he ended up just petting through his hair again.

 

“I'm gonna head out, man,” Juice drained his beer before setting it on the table. He stood and grabbed his cut, slipping it on before throwing his riding jacket on over it. He didn't button it tight like Sebastian did but his chest was shown off just the same. Standing there over them, with his companion asleep, gave the man a distinct advantage. He wasn't scared but it was something close to it.

 

“Yeah, okay,” he wasn't sure what he was supposed to say, “Yo...uhm, be careful.”

 

Juice paused halfway to the door, eyes burning into the blonde for a long minute.

 

“You too.”

 

Jesse waited until the man was out the door and had relocked it before firmly grabbing Sebastian's shoulder. The older man stirred under his touch, mumbling something as he borrowed so fiercely into his belly that he was sure he was trying to hide inside it.

 

“You wanna move to the bed, Seb?”

 

***

 

Jesse lugged the bag of pseudo onto the bare kitchen counter, getting a nod from Emilio. He started spreading it out, counting it for the third time. He was miles away from the dealers and there was nothing he could do now but he felt compelled to do so in front of his partner. He phone started going off, a thumping beat like a heart in his pocket. He dug it out and found it was a call, and once he saw the name he started making his way to the hall.

 

“Hey,” he answered, glancing to where Emilio was cutting in the living room, “What's up?”

 

“ _Mmm_ ,” Sebastian gave a purr on the other end, “ _It's so nice to hear your voice first thing in the morning_.”

 

“Dude, it's past noon.”

 

“ _Is it_?” but the biker didn't sound like he was too concerned, “ _It's my day off and I've been asleep. This is morning as far as I'm concerned_.”  


“Typical,” he snorted, “So what do I owe the pleasure?”

 

“ _I would like you to come over tonight_.” It didn't sound like a command but if it was it was much too lax to upset him.

 

“Why should I?” Jesse teased, moving into the back room so his partner didn't eavesdrop. The last thing he needed was someone finding out about Sebastian, for both their sakes.

 

“ _Because_...” Sebastian sounded like a lazy cat, “ _We can order pizza, you can tell me about your day, we can throw in a Kevin Smith movie, and afterward we can fall into bed_.”

 

Jesse bit the side of his lip, anticipation coiling in his gut, “Sounds kinda boring.”

 

“ _You're right_ ,” the biker gave a long sigh, “ _If only there was something special I could plan, something we haven't done that we've been talking about. If only, right?”_

 

Jesse's little gasp of surprise made the man chuckle.

 

“ _Someone's eager_.”

 

The blonde resisted the urge to jump around or wiggle or anything so girly, “Do you mean what I think you mean, man?”

 

“ _You said the other day that you were ready for the real thing_ ,” Sebastian reminded him, “ _I believe your words were 'no more baby steps', weren't they? If you have the evening free, I'd like to show you what I've been wanting to do to you since that day in the pub_.”

 

Emilio came to the doorway, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

 

“Yeah, man, yeah,” Jesse played it up, hiding the pleased smile from his partner in crime, “Sounds good to me. I can swing by after I've finished up here.”

 

“ _Oh, I see_ ,” the biker's laugh was sweeter this time, like he was amused, “ _You're around some of your dealer friends, hm? I get it. I'll let you get back to work. Kisses, love_.”

 

The man hung up after a smooching sound came over the receiver.

 

Jesse could hardly wait.

 

***

 

The sun was fading fast, bleeding shades of gold and crimson into the room. The apartment air conditioning was on but the air in the bedroom was thick, the two naked men within it overheated. Dark bedding was knotted up and tossed off the side, the sheets rumpled and hunching up along the edges of the mattress like a nest. The pillows had been flung to the floor, only one remaining. It was the color of the forest floor and laying innocently at the end, plump and waiting to be used. A half-used bottle of lube was resting on a mound of lingering blanket, the cap only twisted on enough to keep it from spilling. Matching flavored body oil sat beside it, the contents slicking the older man from fingers to wrist from sloppy use. They'd used so much that it had scented the air with seductive strawberry. The taste was still on both their tongues from having sampled it before they'd agreed to use it.

 

Jesse was on his knees facing the rest of the room and the end of the bed. He had his hands braced on the mattress and his ass on the sheets, calves parted and legs spread enough to give the man behind him all the room he could need. It had taken almost an hour for Sebastian to get him like this, loosened up and mentally ready to take this step. His hole (and he still blushed when he thought about like that) was slick and relaxed, having been stretched by three fingers just a few minutes ago. His cock was as hard as it had ever felt, pre-cum leaking down the shaft and creating a dark puddle on the sheet. He hadn't gotten off earlier because he'd been too nervous and he knew if he tried now it'd be embarrassing. He didn’t want ruin their first time. They'd been working towards sex all night, from the light necking on the couch to now had all been building up to something better.

 

Of course, he didn't know how it could get any better than this.

 

Sebastian was rubbing his hands up and down his back, massaging into the lithe muscles and forcing them to give their tension. He spread the oil with firm strokes over his shoulders, across his ribs, all the way down to the dimples and mounds of his ass. Jesse had gotten on his hands and knees earlier only to get pulled back into the position he was in now, back open to the man's ministrations with the promise of getting him ready properly. Sebastian drew weak little sounds out of his chest without his permission, forcing his body into submission in the best way possible.

 

“That's it, _dragă_ ,” Sebastian dropped kisses along his spine, “Just relax. I won't hurt you if you just let me take you apart.”

  
“You better put me back together, man,” Jesse laughed breathlessly, tossing his head back in a moan when the man brushing over his entrance, “We gonna do this or what?”

 

“Here's what I want you to do.” He felt Sebastian's calves line up on the outside of his own as the man got closer, knees touching his a little, “I think it'll feel fantastic for you and I can get deep. I'll hit your sweet spot so easy, Jess. I just need you to move up on your knees like you were and sink back.”

 

Jesse started to obey but paused, uncertainty flickering through him, “Seb...”

 

Two solid hands laid on his shoulder blades, blasting out the uncertainties with all the weight of an anchor, “Do you want to stop?”

 

“No, man, no, I just...” he bit down on his lower lip, “Are you sure it's not gonna hurt?”

 

“It will ache, but you have to trust me.”

 

“I do,” his head dropped down again, “I don't know why but I do.”

 

“It's okay to trust,” the palms slid down, laying possessively on the planes of his hips, “Promise me something.”

 

“Yeah, anything,” Jesse rose up on his knees like he'd been told, letting his palms take his weight.

 

He could feel the blunt end of the man's latex covered cock brushing against his hole.

 

“Don't ever trust anyone this much but me.”

 

***

 

Jesse was dazed out, staring but seeing nothing as each breath drew another pulse of pleasure through his body. It had taken just slow thrusts before he'd gotten over the initial pain, it had dulled to a low throb thanks to all the slick and stretch the older man had given him. Something inside him was getting brushed and it had kicked the intensity up to eleven or whatever. All he knew was that it felt good. Too good.

 

“Seb,” he gasped sharply, moving with the grip of the man's hands. He let himself be led, though the pace was the only one he could handle – _slow_. He felt so undeniably full, every movement carving out more space that was just for Sebastian. He could never let anyone else do this to him. It was too intimate, too close, and too dangerous. Any other man would've jumped him by now, bent him over the edge of the bed and fucked him without a care. This was something different, something worth savoring and remembering.

 

But he couldn't really keep his mind focused when his release was crashing into him so fast. He hadn't even been touched and already the pressure was building, stacking behind his navel and ready to fall like a stack of bricks with even the slightest jostle. His stamina had never been as shitty as it had been with Sebastian, this time worse than ever. That damn full sensation was more than he'd ever experienced. Better than sinking into the tightest pussy. This was claiming and owning. This was fucking _branding_. It was everything he had never known he wanted. Sebastian was whispering praise and sweetness behind him, one hand always stroking while the other guided their movements. He tried to break it down in his mind in hopes of drowning the roaring lust in his loins.

 

A rock forward, weight on his palms, a smooth slide back, inch after inch of thick flesh filling him up, sweet stimulation, then repeat.

 

Sebastian leaned forward, stabbing that hot button inside him as he bit down on the side of his neck, “You look so fucking pretty, _dragă._ I don't want any man touching you like this. I want you all to myself.”

 

“You gonna keep me here?” It wasn't as joking as he'd meant it to be, instead coming out as a plea, “Tie me up or somethin'?”

 

A hand fisted through his hair, the fingers in his side clawing in hard. He yelped, lips scraping across the shell of his ear.

 

“Only if you ask nicely.”

 

Jesse slapped a hand down to cover the one on his waist, lacing their fingers as the lid blew off his control. He sunk down on the man's cock completely and it triggered his release, the going in and out of focus for a moment as he spilled. But for the first time he was clenching down on something, someone, and it drew a low moan from him.

 

Sebastian rode him through the orgasm before easing out, wrapping his arms around the blonde and holding him to his chest. He melted into the embrace, letting the man hold and whisper more words of spun sugar sweetness that just dragged the pleasure on until he was almost shaking from how _much_ it all was.

 

Then the embarrassment set in. He raised a hand and covered his eyes, trying to block out the world so he could get his composure.

 

“S-Seb, I...I'm sorry, man, it was just-”

 

The older man tilted his head back and brushed his hand aside, a kiss swallowing up the words.

 

“Don't ever apologize to me.” He pulled back just to peck his lips, and from what he could see the biker looked just as content as ever, “It's overwhelming at first, I know. God, _dragă_ , you felt amazing and you looked so beautiful coming on my cock.”

 

“Oh my God,” Jesse buried his face in his hands, trying to pull away only to get dragged back, “Stop saying stuff like that! Damn, yo, I'm not a chick.”

 

“Really, now?”

 

Jesse found himself flung down onto the bed, the man searing a kiss onto his mouth before the fingers on his ribs turned from sensual to ticklish. Laughter bubbled up in his throat as Sebastian nipped at his throat and peppered kisses wherever he could find open skin. Jesse pawed at the older man and clung to him, tickling him back until his husky laughter filled the room as well. They tasted strawberry and bitter seed on each other's lips but neither cared. The easy going atmosphere returned, putting smiles on their faces and erasing the doubt that had started to infect their night.

 

The sun had set without their noticing, leaving the room darker than before except for the small lamp in the corner.

 

“Oof,” Jesse huffed against the older man's lips, brow pinching up.

 

“You okay?” Sebastian moved to settle at his side, propping himself up with his elbow.

 

“My ass, man,” the blonde shifted around and winced, “It doesn't hurt but it's sure as hell not comfortable. Like before except I don't get to come like a motherfucking freight train.”

 

“That good, huh?” Pale fingers rubbed soothing circles just below his navel.

 

Jesse tucked his face just below the man's chin, breathing in the rich scent of musk at the crook of his neck, “I think I'm layin' in my own stuff right now.”

 

“Shit,” the biker started to shift, like he was going to take care of it.

 

“Nah, don't move yet,” Jesse laid a hand on his arm, settling him instantly, “It’s penance for ruining a really nice moment. We finally decide to fuck like adults instead of all that juvenile shit and I go and pop off like a bottle rocket a minute after gettin' you inside me.”

 

“Hey,” Sebastian's chin dug in his hair, “I like that 'juvenille shit'. I called it 'small steps for the hilariously straight'. What do you think?”

 

“Sounds like the title of my fucking autobiography,” Jesse grinned as the man chuckled, “What now, Seb?”

 

“Now?” the ravenette squirmed down until they were eye to eye, the ends of their noses almost touching, “Now I rip this sheet off, throw on another one, and we start again.”

 

He cocked up a brow, “Start again?”

 

“Oh yeah,” a thumb ran over his forehead, trailing up into his hair almost thoughtfully, “I'm going to bite and lick every inch of you until you smell just like me. I'm going to sweet talk your dick until you're as hard as a rock, then we'll get to play again. Are you up for it?”

 

“Sebby, baby, the night's just startin'!” Jesse attacked him, rolling the man onto his back and straddling his hips, “I'm on top this time, motherfucker. We're doin' this my way.”  


Ice blue eyes darkened, cutting into him with razor focus, “I like a boy who can take charge.”

 

“This _boy_ is gonna ride you until you scream for mercy, so you better watch yourself.”

 

A lazy grin was thrown up at him, along with his earlier words.

 

“Promises, promises.”

 

***

 

Somewhere in their second round the sky had opened up and rain had started coming down in sheets, soaking the ground and washing away the filth of the day. Two bodies laid on a warm, hastily thrown back together bed. It was quiet except for the lullaby of the soft storm, the blinds still up to let in the streetlight. They stank of sweat and sex, skin itchy with dried cum, muscles sore, and desperately in need of a shower. 

 

Jesse laid on his side, a pillow he'd saved from the floor stuffed under his head. He watched the rain patter off the window, the drops all fat and happy and rolling down the glass until they merged and disappeared. He was smiling to himself, simply enjoying being there and being comfortable. Despite the ache in his lower back (but it was going away, Seb had given him Tylenol to edge it off), he found himself happy. It was a feeling he'd almost forgotten.

 

Was being happy being content with someone he actually gave a fuck about?

 

Sebastian sighed before rolling over, pressing all along the blonde's back. Jesse watched a pale hand slide over his hip to his stomach, a thumb dipping in his belly button while the rest of the digits spread out. The man's skin was warm. Even if this was defined as cuddling he couldn't bring himself to care, not when it felt this good.

 

“Thought you were asleep,” he mumbled, “What's on your mind?”

 

“I wasn't born here,” Sebastian explained out of the blue.

 

“I kind of guessed,” Jesse blanketed the hand on his belly, sinking further into the embrace of the soft mattress, “Where was it?”

 

“In Romania,” the reply was hot on the nape of his neck, “It's where my mother was born and raised. And for five years, so was I. She raised me alone. We didn't have enough money to send me to a school she deemed good enough so she taught me herself. Every day after work she'd sit down with me, still in uniform, and fill my head up with facts until I was dizzy.”

 

“Sounds awful.”

 

“It was the best childhood I could ask for,” Sebastian placed a kiss on his skin, lips curled in a smile, “And then my father came for us.”

 

Jesse squeezed his hand, turning just enough to look at him over his shoulder, “Dude...”

 

“Not in a bad way, Jess,” Sebastian reassured him, “He never knew about us but Mamă was falling into debt and when she got fired she had to suck up her pride and write to him. He came and got us, took us to his home in Ireland.”   

 

Jesse turned over to watch the man tell the story, his broad-palmed hand settling on his spine.

 

“My Da...now, he was a big tough guy,” Sebastian pulled the blanket further up their bodies, “He was part of the True IRA.”

 

“The what?”

 

“It’s an organized gang of sorts. Chibs used to run with my Da all the time, they were real close for years.” His jaw ticked. “Then this bastard called O'Phelan kicked Chibs out, cut his face all up, and took his wife and kid as his own. My Da stood up for them, threw a fit over the unfairness of it all. Then he just...”

 

Sebastian closed his eyes, burrowing his head further into the pillow. Jesse made a small noise in the back of his throat and leaned forward, kissing the older man's cheek on pure instinct. The biker's eyes popped back open in surprise.

 

“Go on,” Jesse urged quietly, “Please.”

 

“O'Phlean killed my Da in cold blood,” Sebastian admitted, the old hurt carving lines into the corners of his eyes.

 

His stomach dropped. “I'm sorry. That's...that's rough.”

 

“It's okay, _dragă_.” He rubbed his hand up the blonde's back, “It was a long time ago. We were able to extract some revenge and I've been able to come to peace with it.”

 

“What happened to your mom?”

 

“He got her deported back to the homeland. She's still there, actually.”

 

“Why don't you go get her?” he frowned, “Bring her here?”

 

“I talk to her all the time and see her on Skype,” Sebastian shrugged, “She's grown quite a life for herself there. She's in charge of some pretty impressive things at home. I've offered to buy her a house, help her set up in the States, but she's declined. At least for now.”

 

“What happened after all that?”

 

“Chibs lost Kat and Fiona, but he got me in exchange.”

 

Jesse's brow furrowed.

 

“He adopted me. He used his name and any favors he had to get into SAMBEL,” Sebastian saw the confusion still on the younger man's face, “It's a branch of our club in Belfast. They got us passports and transferred us to SAMCRO here. Clay elected himself my uncle and that was the start of my new life.”

 

Jesse laid a hand on the man's chest, feeling the faintest thump of his heart.

 

“One cradled by the gang life.” The man couldn't look him in the eye, “Surrounded by people who only wanted what was best for me. I lived with Chibs for a long time. All the way up until I was eighteen and I walked in on him fucking our newest recruit. They live together now.”

 

“I didn't know they let girls in.”

 

A crooked smile came over his handsome face, “We don't. He's been fucking around with Juice since he was just a hang-around.”

 

His eyes went wide, “Oh shit, man.”  


“What?” he finally looked up, his mirth reinstated, “You thought I was the only one?”

 

“Yeah, actually.”

 

Sebastian rose on his elbow, bringing his hand up to lay just beneath the blonde's jaw. Jesse recognized the serious line of his brow and rolled onto his back, ready to listen to whatever was plaguing the older man's mind. Any other lover and he would've bailed by now but this was what he'd wanted – for them to learn about one another.

 

“Tonight was fantastic, and I want to keep doing this,” Sebastian gave his neck a long squeeze that made him shiver, “But I just want to remind you about how dangerous this could be. We can't be found out. If the word gets out...other gangs are always looking for something on our group. If we give them a foothold, it could uproot us. I don't want to hurt you but you deserve to know.”

 

He ran his teeth over is lower lip nervously.

 

“I'll be keeping up with appearances.”

 

“I get it.”

 

_I cook meth, I'm lying to you, and I'm going to keep lying to you just so you don't kick my ass and leave me like I deserve._

 

“We both got secrets, Seb, it's nothin' I wasn't expectin' anyway.”

 

Sebastian sighed in relief, dipping down and stealing his lips.

 

“I still want you to meet the guys,” he pulled him up by the grip on his throat, deepening the kiss.

 

Jesse nodded wordlessly, pushing at his shoulder until the man broke the contact, “Jesus, Seb, you tryin' to lick my fillings out or what?”

 

“And if I am?” Nails scratched through his hair. “You taste so sweet. Do you think you could go again?”

 

“You're an animal,” he rolled his eyes, “Get back down here.”

 

***

 

They were attached at the mouth all the way to the front door. Jesse's laugh was swallowed up by the other as he was pressed up against the wall, greedy hands roaming over his sides and down over his jean-clad thighs. The only reason they were bothering to get out of bed was because Seb had a long shift at work and he had to drive up to meet his smurfs for some psuedo.

 

“Fuck, you're good at that,” he panted, ripping his mouth away to gulp down a breath.

 

“Mm, what?” Sebastian asked into his hair, nosing the strands like he was trying to scent him.

 

“Makin' me forget everything.”

 

“Good,” the biker nibbled the tender skin of his neck for a moment before managing to pull back, “I have something for you.”

 

“Is it your dick?” he teased.

 

“Maybe,” Sebastian pecked a kiss on his lips, distracting the blonde long enough for him to pull a slim box from his back pocket, “I want you to have this.”

 

Jesse accepted it, blunt fingernails skimming off the edge twice before he managed to pry it apart. It was just a plain jewelry box, and between its folds was a stone ring. It was ebony or some shit, shined to a nice polish. There was a swirl of silver through it but it was almost too faint to see. He plucked it out and held it up to his face, tracing the near-invisible lines with his eyes all the way around.

 

“Whoa.” His chest felt heavy all of a sudden. “You, uh, proposin', man?”

 

“Consider it a little piece of me with you all the time,” Sebastian shrugged like it was no big deal, “I wore it a lot a few years ago. I saw it the other day and thought of you.”

 

Jesse went to put it on but he paused, wondering which finger it would look the manliest on. The biker took his hesitance for uncertainty.

 

“If you'd rather not take it, I understand.”

 

“Nah, man, it's cool,” Jesse shoved it on his ring finger before grabbing a fist full of dark hair, crashing his mouth onto the older man's, “Thanks.”

 

“No need to thank me.”

 

“Dude, no, I mean...” he let his lower lip, eyes clenched shut as he tried to get the right words, “Thanks for taking this – _me_ – seriously.”

 

“I always take you seriously,” Sebastian promised, bringing up the hand that had been clutching the blonde's hat, “Even with these ridiculous things hiding your best features.”

 

“Fuck you, Seb, I got good eyes and shit too,” Jesse grabbed his hat and shoved it on his head, putting on his own shit-eating grin, “You can't seem to get enough of my dick.”

 

“That's true,” Sebastian gave a great, dramatic sigh, “I suppose I'll have to keep you here completely pantsless.”

 

“Give me enough pizza and satellite TV and I'm yours.”

* * *

 

**Did you like it? Oh, I hope you did. It was a lot of fun to write the boys finally getting it on. By the way, I think I forgot to mention that this is pre-Breaking Bad. And that doesn't matter now because the next chapter is the first episode of the series! Yay! But really, I'll be marking the chapter titles by the Episode numbers and names from now on so we can all keep caught up. It's going to go all the way through the third season, I believe, but no further. You'll see why. Leave a comment and tell me what you thought.**


	4. Episode 1: "Pilot"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse has gotten himself wrapped up with a Mr. Walter White. What could possibly go wrong?

**Sorry it's so short, but I want to give every episode it's own chapter (if it warrants it). Nothing real juicy here, just the start of something beautiful. The reception of this fic as been amazing and more than I could ever ask for. I hope I don't disappoint since you all have very high expectations of this and me *sweats nervously***

* * *

 

_And it went on like that for a while, yo._

_Seb would come over to my place, suck my dick like a Hoover, eat all my chips, and not once did he put me down about the shit state of my aunt's house. We took rides on the Harley all the time. Once in a while went to those smoky, shady-ass bars and flirt with girls but we always go home together. Most of the time I went over to his place, though. It was fucking awesome. We'd order in, fuck around, play video games, and just chill like dudes. Seb paid for most of it but I chipped in when I could. The bastard was always insistent about buying, though, and who could resist that?_

 

_Somewhere after the first month, Juice had given me a stamp of approval and he joined us on game nights when he could. So he got a free meal and a friend out of the deal, and there was nothing wrong with another one of those._

_I wasn't sure how long I could get away with it. Maybe I thought it was forever, I don't know. Every time I got close to telling him the truth about the meth he seemed to have a story already going about how the Sons took care of this dealer or that. I'd get all sour stomached and pussy out – like, every fucking time._

_I should've left him early-on before I gave a shit about his stupid grins and bed-head and happy trail. Sebastian put his claws in me that night we fucked. (Maybe before that but I don't wanna think that I was that fucked that far back.) I gave up after a while. I swallowed my shame and guilt and decided that meth wasn't worth losing my friend._

_Friends, best friends, boyfriends, fuck buddies – all those labels sucked balls._

_The point is: Four months after I met Seb, my life took a seriously fucked up turn._

 

***

 

Jesse had no idea how the hell he got himself into these situations. He'd been boffing the next door neighbor's wife since they'd rented the house to do meth in. Lately it hadn't been feeling right, kind of like he was sneaking around on Seb or something. (But that was crazy because they weren't exclusive and the biker was probably having orgies every other night.) Nancy was great and everything, bottle blonde and tan, but she just wasn't doing it for him lately. Truthfully he'd come over to end it but she'd drugged him with kisses and sweet talk, stripping him down to his boxers and leading him into the bedroom before he could even really protest.

 

“Nance,” he huffed as she pushed him back on the bed, the smell of her husband's cologne wafting up around him, “Listen, sweetheart, today's just not a good day. I'm busy and I should get back.”  
  
“Uh-huh.” God damn her voice was nasally. “You always say that, Jesse.”

 

“I know, baby, I know.” He winced as she climbed on top of him, possibly fake tits bouncing with each movement, “And it's always true, I promise.”

 

Nancy let loose a stream of giggles but they died away when she started pulling down his boxers, “What's this?”

 

Jesse picked his head up and looked down the length of his body, pulling a face when he spotted what she was talking about. There were dots of bruises that were placed too perfectly to be mistaken for anything but finger marks. Sebastian had gotten deliciously rough the other day. He'd just thrown Jesse's legs over his shoulders and fucked right into him, and when he'd gotten off he'd dug his fingers in to ride it out. They'd laughed about it the next morning. The biker had played connect the dots with his tongue before they'd even gotten up for breakfast. Jesse stuttered something about some girl sucking him off but Nancy pulled his leg up to see the rest of the bruises, her eyes full of experience and certainty. She was a dumb bitch but when it came to fucking she knew her shit. 

 

“Some girl, huh?” Her lips curled back in an ugly snarl, “Looks like you got fucked pretty good, _brat_.”

 

“Fuck you,” he spat back, the faint sound of sirens drifting through the room, “I don't do that shit.”

 

“I'm sure,” Nancy wrenched his legs open suddenly, perfectly manicured hand dipping under his boxer briefs and purposely dipping between them, “And if I looked down here you certainly wouldn't be fucked open like a bitch?”

 

“Hey!” Jesse sat up, shoving her off him and yanking his underwear back up, “Get your God damn hands off me, skank!”

 

“ 'Skank'?” Nancy grabbed his ankle and dragged him off the bed, pure fire in her eyes now. He knew well enough to grab his pants and scramble to his feet, making headway for the window. His shoe hit him in the back but he kept going, pushing it open and jumping out onto the roof.

 

He fell, and that's when it fucked up. Or maybe it was after he agreed? Fuck if he knew.

 

***

 

“How'd you find me?”

 

“You're still in our filing system.”

 

***

 

“You, uh – you wanna cook crystal meth? You? You and, uh – and me?”

 

“That's right. Either that, or I turn you in.”

 

His heart dropped into his stomach and shattered.

 

***

 

Jesse waited until Mr. White had left his street completely before he ran inside, bolting the door behind him. He didn't bother to turn on the lights and he went to the kitchen, pulling out his phone and dialing with one hand while the other tugged open the fridge and searched for a beer.

 

Funny. He'd have bet money that when somebody had threatened to turn him in the first thought that would go through his mind would be of himself, of his family maybe. The moment Mr. White had dropped that bomb, one word had flashed through his mind.

 

 _Sebastian_. Hot and bright like lightening, the word burned neon squiggles behind his eyelids.

 

The biker picked up on the third ring, “ _Dragă? E ceasul?_ ”

 

Sebastian had a habit of forgetting his English when he was dragged out of sleep like this.

 

“It's me, Sebby,” he whispered into the mic, as if someone were listening. He cracked open the beer off the counter and took a long, cool swig to slick his throat.

 

“ _Hm_ ,” the man yawned so hard he was sure he could hear his jaw crack, “ _Are you alright?_ ”

 

“No,” he dragged his teeth over his lower lip, “Yeah, I guess. Maybe.”

 

“ _Jesse._ ” The sleep was bleeding out of his voice, “ _Where are you? Are you hurt? Who's with you?_ ”

 

“No one's with me,” he clenched his eyes shut, trying to remember all the questions in the right order, “I'm not hurt or anything. I'm home.”

 

“ _Good, okay,_ ” there was the sound of covers being thrown off, “ _Tell me what's wrong._ ”

 

“I don't wanna drag you into it, it's about the...weed,” Jesse finished lamely, pausing to take another drink, “My partner got hauled in. And I just said yes to pairing up with someone but I'm not sure how it's gonna go down. I'm kinda worried about it. Sorta, I guess. I don't know, yo, I'm so fucked up. This day was shit!”

 

He did his best to drain the beer but sputtered halfway through it, slamming the bottle on the table and nearly spitting up on himself. He wiped his mouth with a low curse.

 

“ _Do you want me to come over?_ ” the offered was genuine without a hint of judgment, nothing more than what it sounded like. Sebastian would indeed come over, no questions asked and no crap given. It would be simple and he'd sleep a lot easier.

 

“No, man,” Jesse leaned heavily on the counter, “Thanks but...no thanks, not tonight. I got a big day tomorrow with this guy. I'm not sure how it's gonna go down. I just called to tell you that you'll be buying dinner for a while because I just got cleaned out. Whatever I have left is gonna go into supplies.”

 

Like somewhere to fucking cook.

 

“ _Alright_ ,” Sebastian sighed, “ _I'm just glad you're not hurt. You don't have to tell me anything about it. I honestly don't want to know. When you two are done, call me and I'll bring you something to eat_.”

 

“Would you really?” He sounded like a small child but he didn't care, both hands cradled protectively over the cell.

 

“ _Of course I will_ ,” Sebastian tisked, “ _I know what happens when the police get involved. They take every dime you have and all your supply. It's expected. What did they get?_ ”

 

“Everything,” he replied dejectedly.

 

“ _If you need anything else..._ ”

 

“I don't,” he replied quickly.

 

“ _Then I'll wait for your call_ ,” Sebastian hesitated, “ _Try to get some sleep tonight._ ”

 

“Seb-” he cut himself off as quickly as he started.

 

“ _Are you sure you don't want me to come over?_ ”

 

“I-I'm sure.”

 

“ _Go to bed,_ ” Sebastian urged, “ _Take something if you have to. Try not to worry, if you can._ ”

 

“Okay,” his shoulders slumped, “I'll talk to you later. Be cool, man.”

 

“ _You too._ ”

 

***

 

The next day, Sebastian went through the motions that were expected of him. He worked on the gang's next route, he gave his input when asked, he did the finishing touches on one of the cars in the shop, and now he sat at the bar with the rest of his boys. His Guinness went untouched though, the head long dead on it as he spent his time staring at the blank screen of his phone.

 

“You'll put holes in it at this rate, Seb.” A leather clad shoulder brushed his own, his foster father's warm weight pressing up along his side, “Bore right through it.”

 

“Mm-hmm,” he replied nonchalantly.

 

“You've been in a pensive mood all night, laddie. Eventually you'll have to share with me,” Chibs took a swig from his own mug, “Is it about tha' new blonde toy you've been keepin'?”

 

“Jesse,” Sebastian put his phone down, casting a look at the older man, “His name is 'Jesse'. And he's my friend as well.”

 

“No judgments,” the Scot promised, “He blow you off or somethin'?”

 

“Sort of,” Sebastian pulled a face, a bit of an accent pulling through his teeth (as it seemed to do when around his foster father), “Today was a long day for him. He'll be havin' a bit of trouble for the next couple days and I wanted to help, maybe grab him something to eat. But he hasn't called. I suppose he doesn't need me.”

 

“Aye, and you do very much love to be needed.” A heavy hand rubbed over his shoulder blades, “I'm sure the boy's fine. He's probably still wrapped up in whatever the fuck he's doing or he's fallen inta' bed. No harm, no foul.”

 

“I guess so,” he chewed the side of his lip, “He was off balance the last time I talked to him. He could call any moment.”

 

“Then let's get you a fresh beer and have a bit of a laugh while we wait,” Chibs offered easily.

 

“I don't want to be trashed if he calls.”

 

“Tell you what,” the man's scarred face loomed in front of him, a kind smile creasing his cheeks, “You have a few pints with me and I'll personally call a cab to whisk you off to the princess's house, alright?”

 

Sebastian stared down at his phone again, quickly weighing the pros and cons.

 

“Alright. One beer.”

 

*****

 

Jesse was in the car outside Krazy-8's pad, fingers twitching nervously over his cell. He knew he should've called Sebastian yesterday when he was supposed to but he'd chickened out, too nervous that the man would smell meth in his hair or on his clothes. Maybe not even meth. Jesse was kind of worried that his nerves or guilt would get sniffed out. He'd ignored the biker's texts and the call he'd tried and it had only made his heart heavier. Sebastian didn't deserve this silent treatment.

 

He dialed the familiar number and held the device to his ear, only having to wait one ring.

 

“ _Jess_.” It was a relieved sigh.

 

“Hey,” Jesse bit the side of his nail, “I'm sorry about yesterday. Things got busy.”

 

There he went – lying again.

 

“ _I understand_.”

 

Oh, that broke his fucking heart.

 

“I can't really talk long. I'm about to go see some guys about selling,” Jesse glanced at the condo, already feeling out of place, “I just need you to, uh...just wish me luck, yo.”

 

There was a warm chuckle on the other end of the line, “ _You need that_?”

 

He pursed his lips, “Please?”

 

 _“I'm always wishing you the best_ ,” Sebastian defended, “ _But if you need to hear it – I wish you luck_.”

 

“Thanks, man.”

 

“ _You're going to hang up and I'm not going to hear from you for a while_.”

 

Even over the phone the man could read him like an open book.

 

“ _I'm right, aren't I_?”

 

“I'm – ” Jesse wet his lips, “I'm sorry.”

 

“ _I know_ ,” there was a dejected note in his voice now, “ _Take care of yourself, dragă_.”

 

“I'll try.” He ran his thumb over his mouth, “I really am sorry, Seb.”

 

But the man had already hung up.

* * *

**Suggestions? Questions? General like?**

 

 


	5. Episode 2: "Cat's in the Bag..."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian meets Mr. White for the first time, and suspicions rise.

The next day, Sebastian sat in the privacy of his own apartment staring down at his phone. One lousy phone call in two days, that's all he had to go on. It wasn't enough. He was starting to get paranoid. What if his new partner had captured him? Killed him? Left him beat up somewhere? He'd always thought himself a calm, collected, reasonable man – but they hadn't gone this long without talking since they started their physical relationship. Chibs was right, he thought of Jesse as _his_ , and he couldn't let him run around with a stranger like this.

 

He spent one hour sitting silently on his couch, eyes trained on the phone and fingers steepled beneath his chin.

 

“Screw it.”

 

***

 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

 

There was a dead man in his RV and a guy latched up in his basement.

 

This was not how he'd pictured his day going.

 

***

 

Sebastian went up to the door, helmet abandoned on the bike and a white paper bag in his hand. He'd picked up burgers from Jesse's favorite hole in the wall and had ordered them wrapped in foil to keep everything warm. He knocked on the door, fingerless gloves muffling the thumps. He heard movement behind the door and couldn't stop the stupid grin from coming over his face. He couldn't wait to kiss his little lynx right on the mouth and-

 

“Oh.”

 

The man who opened the door was in his late forties, at least. A thin mustache on his face, glasses crooked as if he'd just shoved them on, clothes the formal level of a teacher or some kind of casual salesman. He had a joint pinched between his fingers, though his form was crude as if he weren't used to it. He was tired, drawn, and appeared as if he needed a nap.

 

 _Jesse's new partner_ , his mind supplied.

 

“Hello,” he greeted as he recovered his manners a few beats too late, “I'm Sebastian Kane. I'm Jesse's friend. Is he home?”

 

“Who names their child 'Sebastian'?” the man sighed, running the back of his hand over his forehead. The skin was dotted with sweat, and the man gave a low cough in the middle of his name.

 

“My Mamă,” Sebastian could feel his patience quickly souring, “Jesse. Is he here?”

 

“If you're looking for drugs, we're out at the moment,” the man chuckled roughly, a sound rarely used by the sound of it, “Thank you very much. Have a nice day.”

 

The man tried to shut the door but Sebastian acted quickly, slamming his palm on the wood and knocking it back so hard it smacked into the wall.

 

“Where is he?” the biker hissed, “If you've done anything to him, so help me God-”

 

“Whoa, buddy, calm down!” the man threw his own hand up, though this one was in placation, “Jesse's out buying plastic tubs. I don't know when he'll be back. But knowing him, it'll be all day. What do you want?”

 

“I brought him an early lunch.” If Sebastian were any less of a man he'd feel self-concious about his bag and disadvantage, “He doesn't eat when he gets busy.”

 

The man rolled his eyes. “I've seen the state of his fridge. I don't think he eats at all.”

 

“I was going to pick him up something two days ago but he didn't call me.”

 

“Well, we had a bit of an adventure,” the man stressed.

 

“I've given you my name,” Sebastian looked him over, lip curling at the mess he was, “Who are you?”

 

“I'm...I'm...” the man took another hit off the joint, fingers shaking, “Heisenburg.”

 

“Heisenburg?” Sebastian rolled the name around on his tongue, “ _Right_.”

 

Heisenburg (he wasn't buying that for a minute) gave another little awkward laugh and reached out, touching a fingertip to one of his patches, “It's not nearly time for Halloween, kid. I don't know why you're all leathered up in this heat.”

 

“The heat doesn't bother me,” he moved just enough to get the man's touch off him, “I'm in a biker club. The Sons of Anarchy. Maybe you've heard of us?”

 

Oh great, now he was sounding like an old James Bond villain.

 

“No, never,” Heisenburg was trying not to appear unsettled but the shake in his hands gave him away, “Should I have?”

 

“Hurt Jesse, and this skull will be the last thing you ever see,” Sebastian growled, shoving the bag in the man's hands, “Make sure he gets this.”

 

“A-Alright.”

 

He slapped on a cheerful smile, “Bye now!”

 

***

 

“I don't suppose you could buy two bins? Legs in one...torso in the other?”

 

“Ugh,” he almost threw up on the table, “I don't suppose you could kiss my ass!?”

 

***

 

“We...we flipped a coin, man,” Jesse stated weakly.

 

Mr. White came back into the doorway, but he didn't look convinced to stay, “By the way, that's for you.”

 

Jesse followed the man's pointed finger to a white bag on the counter, “The fuck's that?”

 

“Food,” Mr. White's brow furrowed all up, “It was left on the porch. There was a note on it that said, 'Eat Me'.”

 

Jesse got up and walked over, unfolding the top and taking a big whiff of the aroma that came up. Salt, ketchup, grease, meat, toasted bun.

 

“Fuck yeah,” he breathed, “That's the stuff.”

 

He heard Mr. White leave but he didn't give a rat's ass. He took out his cell and tapped out a message with a mixture of relief and guilt.

 

**I'm sorry about the other day, and not texting. Thanks for the food. You're a lifesaver - J**

 

A reply came back a few moments later.

 

**Anything for you - Seb**

 

He was digging in to the first burger when he heard the phone buzz on the tabletop.

 

**Still don't need me there? - Seb**

 

His heart gave a lurch. He couldn't let Sebastian see his injury, there would be too many questions. Not to mention his eye was still half swollen shut. Nothing fucking sexier than the Quasimodo look.

 

**I want it, but now's not a good time. Maybe tomorrow? - J**

 

Fuck, he was lying to his friend. To his best friend, probably.

 

**I'm running with Jax tomorrow but I'll try to stop by. No promises. - Seb**

 

“Oh thank God,” Jesse breathed, pressing the cool plastic to his forehead. He couldn't drag Sebastian into this. Not now, not ever (if could help it). The man in his basement, the body in his RV – those were secrets he couldn't share. Sebastian would never look at him again, or worse – send his buddies after him. The man looked tough and all but he cold easily see him as someone who didn't like to get their hands dirty. With just a few words, he could have Jesse “taken care of” and all without seeing his handiwork.

 

Now he was just being stupid.

 

**I miss you - Seb**

 

“Fuck, baby, I miss you too,” Jesse murmured at the screen, stroking it with the side of his thumb.

 

He couldn't bring himself to text back.

 

***

 

Jesse knew there was no excuse for it but sitting alone in his house smoking a bowl seemed like the proper thing to do in his situation. The TV was on and he could vaguely hear the show playing but there wasn't much past the haze of meth. He'd barely slept the night before, only able to doze off for twenty minutes at a time before jerking awake thinking he heard Krazy-8 moving around downstairs. His dreams were full of Emilio's face, either scrunched up in anger at the other end of the gun or slick in chemicals and blank.

 

Everything had gotten out of hand so fast. Between trying to peddle the crystal to Krazy-8 and getting driven out to the desert...just... _shit_. And now his face was still swollen and he had to slather on a layer of cover up to hide the hue of bruises around his eye (for the second day in a row). He had to wait until he healed up before he could even think of seeing Sebastian face-to-face. He should've gotten together with him when he'd had the chance.

 

Now he was freaking the fuck out _and_ sexually frustrated.

 

Jesse was finishing up his bowl when he heard Krazy-8 coughing from downstairs.

 

He couldn't live like this.

 

***

 

“You're all good. Y-You're all good. Yeah. It's just a bunch of meat.”

 

***

 

“Not that it's any of my business but you should consider a different line of work.”

 

Lady, you don't know the half of it.

 

***

 

Fuck Krazy-8. Fuck Mr. White. Fuck _Mrs_. White.

 

Emilio's body slipped from his hands, falling down the few steps he'd managed to drag him up.

 

And most importantly – fuck Emilio.

 

“Fucking dense motherfucker,” Jesse grumbled, going back down and grabbing two fistfuls of tarp and tape. He started back up the steps, the corpse's head smacking dully off each one. That last bowl may have been just a rock too many, he was getting exhausted way too quickly. But after that encounter with Mrs. White what the fuck was he going to do? Calmly go about his body-melting business? Fuck that. Crystal was the only reason he wasn't throwing up all over the walls right now.

 

Someone knocked on the door rapidly. He scowled and lugged the body up further, tucking it out of sight of the front room. The last thing he needed was one of his friends or a pesky neighbor spotting a fucking half-decomposed body in his house. He cursed and stripped of his rubber gloves, tossing them on the body.

 

“This is such fucking crap,” Jesse grit his teeth, stomping down the steps as another knock echoed, “I'm comin'! God damn, yo.”

 

He yanked open the door and to be attacked in a flury of leather and pale skin. Sebastian bundled him up in his arms like a rag doll, kicking the door shut with his heel before shoving him against it. It reminded him of the first time he'd gone over to the biker's house. Fuck, he'd missed this. Strong arms around his waist, plush lips on his, hard body all up against him – it was pure Heaven.

 

“You never called me.” It was almost a whine. Jesse swallowed it down as the larger man grabbed him below the thighs and hefted him up, legs wrapping around his middle on instinct. He'd never say it out loud but he loved Seb had the strength to just throw him around like this.

 

Sebastian broke their kiss but he didn't pull away an inch, leaving them to pant into each other's mouths. He looked over Jesse's face and panic pulsed through his chest.

 

“Is that make-up?” Sebastian broke into a full-on grin, eyes fixed on the very skin he was trying to hide, “Ooo, little lynx. I didn't know you were so kinky.”

 

 _Fuck_. “Seb-”

 

“What will it be next?” Sebastian purred, pushing him further up the door so he could eat at his sensitive neck, “Maybe some red lipstick? Your lips are so flower pink...you'd have to wear something quite dark to make me love it any more. Put on a little eyeliner, shave your face all baby smooth, slide into some silk panties – you could do that for me, couldn't you?”

 

Jesse dropped his head onto the door and moaned, his cock throbbing in his jeans but refusing to get hard. Emilio's stench was still in his nose; he couldn't have gotten it up or eaten anything if he wanted to. And that was just a terrible fucking shame because this shit was hot – weird, but hot. Everything out of Sebastian's mouth was pure sex and a little dead dealer wasn't going to change that. A particularly hard bite along his Adam's apple made him cling to the biker even tighter.

 

“I'd love to have you dress up for me,” Sebastian confessed, the hard line of his dick pressing into the blonde's inner thigh, “Some checkered knee-high socks, one of those pink punk lace skirts like lolitas wear dancing around your thighs. I'd fuck you in it, slide right into your wet cunt.”

 

“Seb, please.” He put both hands on the plane of the man's chest and shoved, nearly falling as he managed to seperate them. His feet smacked loudly off the floor, heels stinging even with the protection of his sneakers. Sebastian frowned and came back, fingers shooting out quick to grab the blonde's face. He thumbed the skin below his eye and Jesse just knew the cover-up would smudge away to show off his bruises.

 

“What happened?” So far there was only soft concern in the biker's voice but he knew it could change in the blink of an eye. Sebastian had a crack-whip temper hidden under all those cool layers.

 

“I fell.”

 

“Bullshit,” the older man spat.

 

“No, seriously, bro,” Jesse scrubbed a hand over his face, hissing when he touched on the tender skin, “I actually _fell_ and landed on a rock trying to run off. Then this asshole kicked me around a bit.”

 

There it was. Sebastian's eyes sharpened up like knives on a whetstone, honing in, focusing. That meant danger. If that whole thing with Krazy-8 had gone down any other way, Jesse would've been more than happy to let his crazy ass friend let off some steam upside Emilio's head but that just wasn't the case. If Sebastian got riled up about this and cast his net out to look for answers he'd inevitably end up in the front yard with the RV. The Sons had connections out the ass and if Sebastian started asking questions, he'd know everything from the meth to the dead body by the end of the day. That just couldn't happen.

 

“No, Seb, no!” he grabbed the man's shirt when he tried to get around him to the doorknob, effectively stopping him, “Don't even think about it!”

 

There was a hard set to the older man's jaw, “I just want to have a talk with this fucker. What's his name?”

 

“No way! This is _my_ gig, alright?” Jesse moved and got in the man's face, refusing to be pushed aside, “I don't need you sticking your nose in it. You said so yourself you didn't want anything to do with it.”

 

“You're right.” Pale fingers slowly ran down his cheek, from the edge of his bruise down to his jaw, “I just can't stand the thought of you getting hurt. Some man putting their hands on you like this...it makes my fucking blood boil. You need to be more careful.”

 

“I am!” his hesitation was almost palpable, “I'm tryin'. But you need to get out of here. I'm in the middle of something.”

 

Sebastian cast his eyes around, lips pressing together like he was trying to keep from saying something.

 

“If you don't want me here, _dragă_ , I'll leave,” he finally stated.

 

“Thank you,” he grabbed the biker's face on both sides, “Seriously.”

 

Jesse planted a hard kiss on his mouth, trying to swallow up the resignation that had blossomed there. The man gave back as good as he got, hands settling on his hips and pulling him close. They fit together way too fucking well. Once this was all over they were going to fall into bed for a week and he'd never take him for granted again. And they were going to talk about this skirt thing because – because fucking reasons and shit.

 

“God,” Jesse moaned pitifully, “I wish we could do this; I need _this_. Sebby, I want you right now but-”

 

“I'm here,” Sebatian swore, touching their foreheads in an act that was somehow more intimate than their thorough kiss.

 

“I know,” he pushed back, taking a few steps away with only the thought of the dead body upstairs to fuel him, “I can't.”

 

Sebastian's hand went out as if to touch him but the action was aborted. The man gave a little nod, looking around again but something on his face told Jesse he wasn't really seeing any of it.

 

“Put some ice on that,” Sebastian got to the door and opened it up but he didn't step out, “Text me. Please.”

 

“I will.”

 

More God damn lies. Sebastian was going to leave his ass before this was all over.

 

The older man ran his tongue over his teeth, “By the way, Jess, you taste really bitter.”

 

Blue eyes went wide but just for a second, “Parliaments, man. I've been chain-smoking since this my partner got dragged in. Sorry.”

 

Sebastian gave another little nod before he left Jesse behind with his guilt.

 

Lies upon lies.

 

***

 

He huffed and puffed and mostly wheezed his way to the bathtub, dragging Emilio by his feet. (But he couldn't think of him like that anymore. He mentally scratched out _Emilio_ and replaced it with _corpse_.) His lungs ached as he stumbled around the body, digging his fingers into the wrap so he could free it.

 

“Oh yeah, yeah, yeah – let's do it at your house,” Jesse ripped off the duct tape, the stench hitting him right in the mouth, “Oh sweet baby fucking Jesus.”  
  


He took a few seconds to collect himself before ripping off the tape.

 

“Let's completely screw up your house so you never want to spend another night in it,” he ranted, using both gloved hands to shed the bag, “Sure! Why not?”

 

It took two tries but he managed to lug the corpse over the edge and into the tub, the meaty thud making him wince.

 

“How about I send over my psycho bitch wife to break your balls and threaten you?” He dragged the bag of equipment over to him, snatching one of the long rubber gloves out of it, “That would be _hilarious_. Oh, and the killer in the basement – you know, the one that's completely _my_ responsibility – hell, let's just, let him live down there. Just make sure to feed him, like, three times a day.”

 

Jesse went to strap on the other glove but paused when he saw the light catch off his ring. Sebastian's ring. Shit. He covered it up quickly.

 

“I won't even consider the fact that maybe Jesse has a fucking healthy sex life that is seriously shot forever because he touched a corpse thirty seconds before he got frenched by the hottest God damn biker guy in the city.” He shucked off his hat, tossing it across the bathroom, “Doesn't give a fuck that maybe _Jesse_ is trying to hide this whole fuck up from said biker and that going off the grid for three days is highly fucking suspicious. No, not one shit is given. Not. One.”

 

He tugged on the mask, hefting the guns in the tub beside the corpse's face.

 

“Maybe I have other things to do,” he continued on, struggling to get the jug of acid up into his lap to twist off the cap, “Maybe I wanna fall into bed with Seb and figure out this weird new kink he brought up? I would rather be out buying some stupid fucking skirt than doing this right now! I would rather – I swear to God – I would rather shave off all my pubs and jump into a silk thong than be in this house with these two motherfuckers for one more second.”

 

He started pouring the acid, keeping his face turned away from the fumes (even though, “Thank you, Mr. White! Thank you so much for the opportunity! I always dreamed about, I don't know, _melting bodies_.”

 

He started sputtering as the liquid did its job, eating away and breaking down flesh and muscle. Wispy tendrils of smoke started to curl up, licking around his face and at his arms. He couldn't smell it right now but he knew the moment he took the mask off it was gonna be brutal.

 

***

 

Jesse lit up the moment he got downstairs. He'd changed his clothes but the rank stench stayed, a nauseating mix of chemicals and fried skin. As usual, the meth smoothed over his anxiety and stomped down on the horror of the very fresh memories. He could still hear the buzz of flies in his ears; it almost drowned out the slam of the front door. A snarl briefly curled his lips when he realized it could only be one person.

 

“You got a brother in the God damn DEA?” Jesse drawled thickly, leaning on the counter to keep himself upright. True to his prediction, Walt walked into the kitchen and stood there. He didn't look like he was going to answer at first, a stupid look of hesitation all across his face.

 

“What?”

 

“You said you were just doin' some ride-along,” Jesse shot out accusingly, “Yes or no – do you have a brother in the DEA?”

 

“Brother-in-law.”

 

“Ah,” Jesse smacked his palm off the counter, trying to mask the way his stomach had dropped, “Well there's a load off my mind.”

 

“Where did you hear that?”

 

“Your freakin' wife told me when she was here all up in my shit,” his drawl was quickly turning into slurring but Walt's visible fear sobered him up, “Yeah, that's right. She almost caught me moving Emilio!” The dead man's face flashed through his mind but he managed to shake it off. “Good job on wearing the pants in the family. And why'd you go and tell her I was sellin' you weed?”

 

“Because somehow it seemed preferable to admitting that I cook crystal meth and killed a man,” Mr. White admitted, pulling a face.

 

“Well good fucking job with that.”

 

“Good _fucking_ job?” Mr. White's cussing sounded stilted and it would've been funny under any other circumstances, “What about you and your friends?”

 

“What are you gettin' at, old man?”

 

“Sebastian. Kane.” The words came out clipped, efficient. “A friend of yours who stopped by the other day. He could've barged right in; he seemed pretty determined to find you.”

 

Jesse's blood ran cold as the gears of his mind finally broke free of the sticky meth-coating, their sudden start putting a shot of adrenaline straight into his heart.

 

“The food...?”

 

“He came to the door, I answered.” Walt's fingers tightened bloodlessly along the counter edge. “You're wrapped up in a gang? You think it wasn't worth sharing that with me when we started?”  
  


“I'm not involved with the Sons, he is!” Jesse tossed his hand uselessly, “They barely know who I am.”

 

“But they _know_ you. Damn it, Jesse.” Mr. White's head dropped between his shoulders. “This isn't funny. This isn't a game. I've heard the gang around here can be brutal when it comes to hard drugs.”

 

He scoffed, “You think I don't know that?”

 

“Obviously not.”

 

The verbal jab made him flinch.

 

“If they found out what we're doing here, you can forget the police. We'll see the inside of our coffins before we see the inside of a jail cell.”

 

“I'm no one to them!” Jesse lashed out hotly, “As far as they're concerned, I'm just another piece of ass, nothing to be concerned about.”

 

He realized what he'd said a moment too late. He shoved his fist between the rows of his teeth, biting down until it stung. Mr. White's eyes got all round and stupid like a deer in front of headlights. Shit, he'd been hoping to avoid this.

 

“So...what?” Mr. White frowned, giving the same vague gesture the blonde had done earlier, “You sleep with neighbors wives and gang members? Is he offering you some kind of protection?”

 

“Listen, man, if the others found out about what we're doin' here, they'd beat me just as bloody as they would you!” The truth, even in his own words, stung. “I'm sure Seb'd join in if he knew I'd been lyin' to him all this time! Fuck, they'd probably spare you if you did that coughing thing and fell over.”

 

“He seemed hostile.”

 

“Leave him outta this!” Jesse barked, standing up to his full height, “You have no right to judge him! Or me.”

 

Mr. White sniffed sharply, “I can think of other things to judge you about. Is that what I think it is?”

 

“Yeah, yeah it is. So what? My house, my rules.” He watched the older man shake his head, “Nah, nah, man. Don't give me that, okay. I held up my end. I already took care of Emilio. You're still diddling around trying to get your nut up.”

 

“Ah, well, boo-hoo. I have the truly awful job here.”

 

“Oh, oh – you wanna talk awful? You wanna go there? Try draggin' two hundred pounds of stink up a flight of stairs. I barely got him in the bathtub.”

 

He left out the part about Sebastian almost finding him.

 

“Bathtub? Wha...What do you mean 'bathtub'?”

 

“That's another thing – why you got me runnin' around town trying to find some stupid piece of plastic when I have a perfectly good bathtub I can use.”

 

“Oh God.”

 

And it just went downhill from there.

 

* * *

**That scene with them making out against the door and the whole 'girl clothes' thing has been in my mind since I thought of this story. For some reason that scene and two others are the serious reason I even did this fic. Hope you enjoyed it.**

 


	6. Episode 3: "...and the Bag's in the River"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Juice and Mr. White realize that the boys mean more to each other than they originally thought.

**It's short, I know. But I really do like having each chapter be an episode. It organizes it into nice, neat little chunks for me.**

* * *

 

Two hours. Two hours of cleaning up stank and slick and general fucking grossness. What was left of the guns were down two layers but they weren't gone, not like he'd intended. Jesse couldn't get his hands to stop shaking. Every time he remembered that this was a man he'd known, worked alongside, run to get burgers with – it made him want to hurl into his mask. They put buckets upon buckets of Emilio-goo down into the toilet.

 

Now? Now they were spraying each other off in the inflatable kiddie pools he'd found in the garage.

 

“What is he to you?” Mr. White asked suddenly, breaking their unspoken vow of silence, “This biker guy?”

 

“He's...” The blonde turned his head away as the spray hit his chest. “He's just a friend, yo.”

 

“That you fuck.”

 

“What?” he snapped.

 

“He's a friend that you fuck.” The word sounded so wrong coming from his former Chemistry teacher.

 

“It's none of your God damn business who he is or what we do.”

 

“Is he your boyfriend then?”

 

“Give me that.” He snatched the hose from the man's hands. “Put your fucking arms out.”

 

“I don't care who you're...rolling around with.” Mr. White seemed to have run out of steam on his cursing role. “But your friend 'Sebastian' might pose a problem.”

 

He sprayed the man pointedly in the face. “He's no one's problem but mine.”

 

“If you haven't noticed, Jesse, we're kind of in this together.”

 

“Yeah, well...we'll see.”

 

***

 

“Your job is waiting for you in that basement, as per the coin. Just fuckin' do it already.”

 

***

 

Jesse retreated to the first meth-hole motel he could think of and shacked up with a client named Wendy as cover. He was seated next to the window, peeking between the blinds to watch the woman speak to someone in an SUV. Could be a John. Could be the police. He'd taken some hard hits of crystal and it was kinda making him paranoid. He needed something to ground him. He needed _someone._ Keeping his eyes on the car, he pulled out his phone and dialed Sebastian's number. His treacherous fingers had mesmerized the sequence.

 

“Sebby?” he hushed into the receiver.

 

“ _There you are_.”It was a wonderfully normal tease. “ _I was thinking about you all day today. How's your eye_?”

 

“Better,” he rushed out, “Listen, I wanted to talk to you-”

 

“ _Me first. I wasn't honest with you the other day. I came over before that to drop off some lunch. I met your partner_.”

 

Jesse lost all his breath in one sharp burst, “Shit, really?”

 

“ _I know. I invaded your privacy, I stomped all over the ground rules we set_.” Sebastian sounded like he was moving things around, the metallic clink of tools punctuating his words. “ _But I was worried about you. He seems...fine_.”

 

“He said you were hostile.”

 

“ _His blasé attitude toward your wellbeing was unsatisfactory_ ,” Sebastian shot back, “ _I'm only looking out for your best interest_.”

 

“I don't need you screening my fuckin' drug buddies,” he hissed out.

 

There was a pause on the line. “ _I'm sorry. You're right. I shouldn't have been involved_.”

 

“Seb.” He dropped his head against the window, still watching Wendy with the car, “Stop with the fuckin' guilt trip, alright? I know you're a fatass mother hen. This is just a bad time.”

 

“ _Why_?”

 

“I'm kinda on the DL right now.” Jesse picked his head up in time to spot the woman leaving the car and start the walk back. “The house is kinda hot. More like on fire. I wanted to tell you so you didn't drop by while I wasn't there.”  


“ _Thanks for the warning. Anything I should be concerned about?_ ”

 

“You wouldn't listen to me if I told ya.” The door opened up. “Shut the door. Shut the door! Lock it, lock it, damn, _lock_ it. Who the hell was that?”

 

“Cop and some football player messin' with me,” Wendy ground out, tossing her purse on the bed.

 

“Did they ask about me?”

 

“Nah, I think they just wanted pot.”

 

“Whatever.” Jesse pushed the phone harder into his ear. “Listen, man, I gotta go.”

 

“ _I'm going to ask you to text me, even though I know you won't._ ”

 

“I'll try.” Jesse's eyes finally fell shut, invisible fingers curling around his heart. “Seb, I...”

 

His throat went dry.

 

“I...”

 

Jesse snapped the phone shut, shoving all those stupid emotions back down into his stomach to digest. He didn't have the time or the patience to analyze what the fuck was going on in his head or his heart. Everything was so fucked up now that Mr. White was in his life. The old timer just waltzed in and stirred up shit he didn't need. Seb didn't help much easier but with all the awesome sex they'd been having he wasn't going to complain about it.

 

“You're lookin' down there, Captain.” Wendy's lips twitched up in a smile, revealing the mustard yellow of her teeth, “You want a ride to cheer you up?”

 

“Nah,” he waved her off, eyes still firmly out the window. What was a fuck with some skank in a cheap motel when he could be spread out on a soft bed with a hot biker sucking his cock like it was a fucking popsicle? He'd tried to keep fucking his usual chicks after that first night with Seb but everyone else had come up pretty lackluster in comparison.

 

It was better to smoke and try and forget how deep in the hole he was.

 

***

 

Sebastian pressed the cool line of his phone into his chin, staring down at the _carburetor_  the younglings in the garage had given over to him in hopes of getting it fixed. The conversation had sapped all his passion for repair. It left him cool and more than a little vacant. He didn’t like it. The tremor in Jesse's voice had eaten at his heart, instilling unease into his very core.

 

“Seb?”

 

That poor thing. All alone, wrapped up in God knows what.

 

“Sebastian? Bro?”

 

Sebastian lifted his head, spotting Juice ducking his head into the garage.

 

“Let's go, man, we gotta hit the road.” Juice smacked the siding loudly. “You've been staring at that thing for twenty minutes. If it's not done by now, it's pretty much fucked.”

 

“Oh.” He'd completely forgotten about the _carburetor_. How long had he been staring, exactly?

 

“ _And_ it's not the part,” Juice huffed, taking a few steps into the other's work space, “Alright, we've got five minutes. Spill.”  


“It's Jesse.”

 

“Jesus Christ.” He rolled his shoulders as if to get ready for what he was going to hear. “It's always _him_ with you lately. What did lover-boy do now?”

 

“Nothing,” Sebastian breezed as he raised his phone up, letting it brush his lower lip, “I think he's in over his head.”

 

Dark eyes sharpened, always ready to catch a mistake, “Like what?”

 

“I don't know,” he replied honestly, “Maybe something. Maybe nothing.”  


“You're keeping an eye on him, aren't you?”

 

“I am,” Sebastian promised, “There's nothing shady going on. He just likes to play with big dogs.”

 

“Most puppies do.” Juice dropped a hand on his friend's shoulder. “I know he's important to you. The little shit's kinda growing on me too. But you have to remember who you belong to.”

 

Sebastian let the grip ground him. “I know.”

 

“You're a Son first.” Juice gave him a little shake, a white canine clipping the side of his lip, “And a, uh, _boyfriend_ second.”

 

“I hate that word.” He shrugged his hand off in spite. “Let me grab my cut. Ten minutes, at most.”

 

“I'll tell Jax.”

 

Juice had one foot in the sunlight and the other in the shadow of the garage but he stopped, hesitating.

 

“Seb?”

 

“What?” he snapped, wiping his hands off on the cleanest rag he could find.

 

“If Jesse does get into any trouble.” He grabbed the siding, fingers tapping nervously against the metal. “If something happens...you know I would help you.”

 

He turned to face him, finding the man's expression just as serious as his voice.

  
“You have to be joking.”  


“Don't be a dick!” Juice pulled a sour face, “I'm only saying this because whether you know it or not, you've put a special sticker on his fucking head. He's different from the usual tail you go through. I've...I've never seen you stay with someone so long, man. So if something happens, I'm here.”

 

Juice ducked his head.

 

“Off the record.”

 

It was almost too soft to hear.

 

“Clay and Jax don't have to know everything.”

 

***

 

When Jesse got home he found the gate open, the basement void of his impromptu prisoner, and the RV cleaned out of equipment. The only thing that even showed anything had gone down was the bike lock now out of place.

 

Jesse exhaled, letting the curve of the lock rest against his chest. He raised his hand and put his lips to the cool stone of his ring, whispering to it like it was a string of prayer beads.

 

“Fucking hell...”


	7. Episode 4: "Cancer Man"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse goes through some things. Season one spoilers. The title changed.

**Sorry about the title change. I've hated it since the day I made it and I came up with it in haste because I wanted to get this fic out. I was reading over this chapter and I remembered what I originally wanted to call it.**

* * *

 

He'd smoked too much.

 

Jesse bundled himself up in his thickest coat and sat in front of the curtains, keeping an eye on the road. Krazy-8 was dead and his connections would be looking for who did it. It was no big secret that they'd worked together, everyone on the street knew that he ran for the man. Any gossip about Emilio and his cousin's disappearance was sure to have his name thrown in, if only for a joke. But jokes were known to get serious – fast.

 

For the (probably) the hundredth time, Jesse picked up his phone and set it down. He'd been torn between _Tell Sebastian/Don't Tell Sebastian_ since he'd gotten back. Seb could be a kind of bodyguard for him, hide him maybe, but he could also accuse him. Beat him. Leave him for dead.

 

Jesse jerked suddenly, fingernails scraping through his hair. His heart was beating so fast it felt like it was floating in his chest. Every inch of him was hypersensitive and the only thing that numbed it, even for a second, was the crystal. But that only satisfied the itching for a few minutes (or an hour, his sense of time was shot) before he was ready to start climbing up the walls.

 

There was a rumbling noise from outside. He shoved the lace curtain aside, practically pressing his nose up against the glass to get a better look. There were motorcycles coming up. He rubbed the back of his hand over his eyes, the bikers flickering back into existence with a vengeance. There were whispers now; someone was laughing, hissing his name, and it felt like fingers were touching his neck. A machete gleamed in the sunlight. Did Sebastian send them? Did he find out? Was he mad? Did he hate him now? _Fucking meth_! This was all thanks to stupid fucking crystal!

 

This was it for him. Finite. End of story. The. Fucking. End.

 

He had to get the fuck out of here.

 

***

 

Jesse wheezed, scampering up the fence like a monkey.

 

Where was he going? Seb's apartment? No, not there. He was tweaking hard, Sebastian would sniff him out in a second. Where could he go? Who would keep him safe? He had no favors, no real friends, no one to turn to.

 

There was always-

 

Fuck. There was always _them_.

 

***

 

The group stopped for a bite to eat at a grubby diner. Sebastian was outside in the sun, leaning up against his bike and shoving deep fried chicken strips into his face like he'd never seen food before. Every time an American served him something deep fried or greasy he would get flashes of pleasant memories. His mother's clean cooking, the spice rack in their old kitchen, the boiled potatoes and beautifully rare slices of lamb his father would lay in front of him, smooth beer in old glasses, and Chibs...trying to cook for him in the manner he'd become accustomed. He'd eaten every undercooked noodle and burnt sauce with a smile on his face, just happy to have a foster father who cared enough to try.

 

“Champ.”

 

Sebastian grinned as Tig threw an arm around his shoulders, ruffling his hair in an effort to annoy The man was rough around the edges but he was a good one. At least at heart.

 

“You remember Clay telling me to go bust up that meth head? That one that was starting to branch out?”

 

“Mm-hmm,” he hummed around a mouthful of chicken.

 

“Turns out he fled town,” Tig bumped their shoulders. “If you ask me, I say one of his shitty buddies took him out. You feel me? Like, assassin style. _Pop_.” He gave a fake shot at the ground. “Gone. Buried in the desert.”

 

“Probably.” He lifted up his shades with the crook of his thumb, eyeing the bag in the man's hand. “Are there fries in there?”

 

***

 

“What the hell are you doing out here?”

 

“Hey, Dad. Heeeyyy, Mom. Hey, Jake. You got new patio furniture. Right on. Ugh. My leg.”

 

***

 

It was dark when Jesse fell into bed and it was still dark when he woke up. His body and the clock told him he'd been asleep a day. He still felt like shit. He fished around in his jacket, sluggish fingers curling around his phone. He thumb punched the numbers in and he managed to cradle it to his ear. The ringing was impossibly loud in the quiet room. It seemed to stretch on forever, one after the other again and again and-

 

“ _Jesse_?”

 

“Sebby.”

 

Was that really him whining like that?

 

“ _Oh, dragă, baby_ ,” Sebastian sounded heartbreakingly sweet. “ _Do you need me_?”

 

“I think I do. Really bad, man.” He rubbed the hell of his palm into his wet eyes. “But I can't because – just – fuck – I can't let you see me like this.”

 

“ _I don't care if you're face down in a gutter, Jesse, I will come for you_ ,” Sebastian swore. “ _I would never judge if you're in trouble_.”

 

“Not this time.” He buried his face in the pillow, “I'm gettin' kinda low, man, and I don't...”

 

“ _Don't what_?”

 

He took a long breath. “Don't want you to know how pathetic I am.”

 

“ _I can't believe this_ ,” the older man sighed, _“You're being very selfish right now. Don't you think it's tearing me up to hear you falling apart like this?_ ”

 

“I-I'll...” Jesse swallowed dryly. “I'll stop callin'.”

 

“ _Don't you dare_ ,” Sebastian snapped back. “ _I will send out a manhunt for you if you do_.”

 

There was another exhale on the line, this one longer.

 

“ _Do whatever you need to do, Jesse. But stay with me. Don't disappear_.”

 

He smacked down the phone, taking in a shuddering gasp that trembled on a sob before he managed to put the mic back up to his mouth.

 

“You're way too good for me. For all this shit.”

 

***

 

“Now, hey, remember, not all learning comes out of books.”

 

***

 

“I mean, if you ever, I dunno, need advice. Yo, cause I've been through it all. For real.”

 

Jesse fiddled with the instrument case he found on his little brother's bed. He flipped open the latch to reveal shined silver metal. He danced his fingers across the keys with no small reverence. They clacked under the pressure of his touch, every joint oiled smooth.

 

“Bro...you know some things to.” Jesse chewed on his bottom lip as he tried to think of the right words, “You got a little girlfriend or something?”

 

“Mom and Dad say I'm too young for that.” His brother's dark eyes stayed on the screen. “But there are a few girls in band rehearsal who like to pair with me a lot. They smile and do that eye batting thing. It's very flattering.”  


“Cool, man, cool.” Jesse grinned faintly at the thought of his brother being a player. “You like any of 'em back?”

 

“Maybe.” Jake shrugged with one shoulder, “I don't know.”

 

“I was wonderin'...”

 

He decided to come right out and say it, “How do you know if you're, like, in love?”

 

Jake actually frowned and turned in his chair. “Why?”

 

Jesse pursed his lips, “I don't know, man, it' just a question.”

 

“Do you mean how Mom and Dad are? Or Romeo and Juliet?”

 

“Like, real love.” Jesse fiddled with a bar on the flute. “Rainbows and white horses and riding off into the sunset stuff. Maybe like Snow White where the broad was under that spell from the apple. She was just lying there, not changin'...not doin' nothin' with herself. Just _being_.” He frowned. “And then this dark haired prince guy comes along, lays one little kiss on her, and _bam_! She's awake and it's like she's never been more alive.”

 

“That's a...specific way of putting it.”

 

Jesse looked up quickly. “It's just an example.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Don't be a brat, okay.” The metal was warming under his fingers. “And don't tell Mom or Dad but I kinda met someone. They've been making me see myself a little different. Or whatever.”

 

“Is that who you were talking to on the phone the other night?” Jake's eyes were still on the computer as he spoke.  


“Yeah, man.”

 

Jesse held up the instrument, “I didn't know you played the flute.”

 

***

 

“How many chances have we given you? How many times have we sat right here and had the same conversation over and over again where you look us in the eye and you plead ignorance. And you play on our emotions and you tell us anything and everything you think we want to hear just so we'll give you another chance. And it makes us look like fools every time. Enough, Jesse...enough.”

 

But this time it was different. This time he didn't do anything. This time...

 

It didn't matter. They wouldn't listen. They never listened before, what was so different this time around?

 

And just like that, he was kicked out of his house.

 

***

 

After Jesse sprayed the shit out of his house with Febreeze and locked the upstairs bathroom, he finally sent the text asking Sebastian over. The man was knocking at his door before the hour was over, and when he opened it a Chinese take-out bag was shoved into his arms.

 

“Put that on the table.” Sebastian came in, elbowing the door closed. “And be quick about it.”

 

“Jesus, man.” Jesse sulked as he obeyed. “I know we've been kinda out of touch lately but you don't have to be a bitch about it.”

 

The moment the bag was safely set aside, Sebastian grabbed him by the front of his shirt and yanked him into a kiss. Jesse gave a muffled yelp before he threw himself into it, more than desperate for the contact. Twin moans of relief filled the room. There was no gentleness as the blonde was manhandled backward and dropped onto the couch, eagerly stretching out and parting his knees to give Sebastian enough room to climb on top of him. The older man was a warm, familiar weight and he welcomed it. He groped at broad shoulders, feeling down the supple leather of his cut to the denim curve of his ass. He got a generous handful and squeezed, holding on as the biker bucked. The movement ground them together, the friction sending hot sparks all up his spine and into his brain to give him that fuzzy feeling that meth couldn't quite replicate.

 

“I don't know how I went without you.”

 

It was sinful and poured directly between his lips, spilling down into his lungs and giving him breath to groan again. Sebastian moved as quick and sneaky as a snake, Jesse’s jeans undone and pulled down to the middle of his thighs before he could blink twice. The older man slithered down, giving him only a second to feel bereft before firm lips and a generous mouth swallowed down his hard cock.

 

Jesse gave a harsh huff, trailing off into a laugh, “Fuck, Seb. I've missed this so bad, man.”

 

It was so much better than anything he'd had in days. The man's talented tongue was hot enough to melt away memories of cleaning up human sludge and getting cracked in the head with a rock and the feel of a gun against the back of his head. And here he'd though he'd never get hard again. Sebastian smelled like sour transmission fluid and greasy Chinese food and it made him throb like his heart was in his dick.

 

He came quick. Seb had a way of getting him off in an amount of time that would usually shame him. It was old hat by now.

 

“You shot off like a rocket, Jess,” Sebastian hummed as he licked the slick off his lips, pulling off the softening flesh.

 

“Mmm, yo, it's been a while.” Jesse cupped the sides of his head, dragging him up for a messy kiss. They grinned, slotting together perfectly as their simple kiss turned into a languid make out. Between a sigh and a shift of hips, Sebastian carefully tucked exposed flesh away back into its cotton confines.

 

“This gonna be one of those times where it's just for me?” Jesse inquired out loud.

 

Sebastian's brow pinched up, “How did you know I was going to say that?”

 

“Because whenever you think I need comfortin' or whatever, you give me these fucking mind-poppin' blowjobs and then say something like that.” Jesse dug his fingers into thick hair, letting himself memorize it for next time he had to disappear.

  
“You know me so well.” He bussed their noses. “That wasn't pillow talk. I've missed you, _dragă_. My bed's been cold without you. My couch as well.”

 

Jesse snorted, “Same, bro.”

 

“I'm afraid I'm going to have to let you go,” Sebastian sat back on his heels, palms skimming up the blonde's thighs, “I can hear your stomach growling.”

 

With one last, lingering kiss they managed to break it up and dig into the food. Jesse devoured everything he could get his fork in, not slowing down even when Sebastian shot him little looks and chuckles. He'd eaten one dinner in two days and his body felt like it was ready to break down. Man could not live on meth and meatloaf alone.

 

Once he was sure he was full, he dared to look at the clock.

 

“Fuck.” He wiped his mouth off with a napkin, climbing over the arm rest to start across the room, “I gotta show you somethin'. Stay there.”

 

Twenty minutes later he emerged from his bedroom, shoes tapping loudly on the hardwood floor as he came out into the living room. Sebastian stopped mid-bite, blue eyes going wide and jaw hanging open comically as he stared. Jesse smoothed his hand over the front of his jacket, self-consciously shifting his weight as the man's eyes seemed to roam over every inch of him. He hadn't been nervous getting dressed but now he was starting to feel like this was a terrible idea.

 

“Yo, Seb, your makin' me more jittery than I already am.”  


“You look...so handsome,” Sebastian breathed, standing up and walking over to him. Jesse preened, raising his chin as the biker's fingers trailed down the collar of his jacket. It was what he'd bought to go to his interview in. Gold colored tie, crimson dress shirt, black suit. He'd even combed his hair. It was the most professional he'd ever looked.

 

“It's a great cut for you, trim at your hips.” Jesse hummed pleasantly as the man's hands ran firmly along his waist, though he wasn't sure if it was to feel him up or test the shape. “What's the occasion?”

 

“I have a couple of job interviews to go and I wanted to look good.” He gestured to himself, “How about it?”

 

“It's perfect. Do you want me to drive so I can be there afterward?”

 

“I think I want to do this by myself.”

 

Sebastian grabbed his hand, raising it up to press a kiss to it.

 

“Then by yourself you'll be.” He dragged his teeth across the younger man's knuckles, goosebumps breaking out across his skin. “Call me afterwards, won't you?”

 

“Yeah, of course,” fingers went to his tie, tightening and shifting it around to make it perfect, “Thanks, man.”

 

“What are you going in for?”

 

“A sales position. It's nothin' big.”

 

“I'm sure you'll be fantastic.” Sebastian picked away the few pieces of lint he found clinging to the material. “They'll take one look at you and fall in love. How could they not?”

 

“I'm pretty sure it's a dude, yo.”

 

“That hardly matters,” Sebastian clucked, putting a finger under the younger man's chin. “A little beard is good. I'm afraid how young you'd look with it all off.”

 

“Whatta' mean it 'hardly matters'?”

 

“Jesse.” Sebastian leveled him with a hard look. “If you've learned anything from me it should be that you're more handsome than you realize. And you can be charming when you use full words and remember that you're Caucasian.”

 

“Hey-!”

 

“Jess.” He brought the younger man's hand back up, this time pressing a warm kiss to the heel of his palm. “If you smile at them with half the light you smile at me with, you'll have them eating out of the palm of your hand.”

 

Jesse couldn't hide his blush.

 

“If you say so, man.”

 

“Are you thinking of going straight?”

 

Jesse tensed up, the question coming out of nowhere. But Sebastian's gaze was soft, unjudgemental. His face gave nothing away, refusing to show what he knew or didn't know. He just let the question hang between them, holding onto his hand like a lifeline.

 

“Maybe,” he answered vaguely.

 

“I'll support you no matter what, as I’ve always said.” Sebastian looked down at his watch. “Do we have time for a quickie before your first interview?”

* * *

**Maybe you liked it, maybe you didn't, but the point is - you're here! And I thank you warmly.**

**I took the weekend off writing but I'm 30 pages into my Skyrim fic with Enjolras and Grantaire as the pairing. If you don't know what I'm talking about, then ignore this. The fic is looking really good and definitely not as one-shot-y as I had hoped for.**

 

 


	8. Episode 5 & 6: "Gray Matter" and "Crazy Handful of Nothin' "

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse gets more than he bargained for with Tuco. Sebastian gets less.

**As I always try to do when I re-write things, I'm taking the route that means you've seen the episode. If you're not sure what's happening the dialogue-only scenes or when I skip over scenes that are just Walt-based, you're welcome to use Netflix or read the wiki pages for the episodes. Maybe even YouTube, depending on the scene. Or download them, watch the episode and then read the chapter to see if I've changed it. It'd be a lot more fun that way.**

 

* * *

 

It was a bust. All of them were. And Badger just rekindled his urge to cook.

 

His life was bullshit.

 

***

 

One cross-bolt and a Badger later, he was driving back to the city alone with just a few bruises and a busted ego.

 

***

 

“Wanna cook?”

 

***

 

“Hey, Seb. Yeah, I went to the interviews. They didn't really, uh, pan out or anything. I'm gonna be gone all day and tomorrow. Me and Mr. Wh...Heisenburg are gonna be out. Yeah, babe, you can text me all you want. You fuckin' better cause he's no real company.”

 

***

 

“You gonna be able to finish the batch?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“A'ight.”

 

“No. You do it.”

 

“Me?”

 

“Yeah. What happened to your 'mad skills'?”

 

Jesse gave a long sigh.

 

“Here. You do it. You can do it. If you have any questions, I'll be right out here.”  
  
“Next time...put an ice pack on your head during chemo. It can help with the hair loss.”

 

***

 

“Who took Krazy-8's place?”

 

“Some guy named Tuco. Badass, from what I hear.”

 

“Tuco. Okay. So just go talk to Tuco.”

 

“Right. Like: 'Hello, sir. Hey, I know you don't know me, but would you be interested in a felony quantity of methamphetamine?'.”

 

“Well, yes, but maybe with a little more _salesmanship_ perhaps?

 

“You just don't get it, man, this guy's OG!”

 

“What does that even mean?”

 

“Ah, Jesus. Look, he's upper-level, man, he's not gonna do business with some dude he doesn't know. Okay, you just don't understand the way it works. You can't just bum rush some high level Ice Man and start cutting deals. Okay, it's risky. You need an intro, you need someone to vouch.”

 

“What about Sebastian?” Mr. White pressed. “He must at least _know_ some people.”

 

“Don't,” Jesse hissed through his teeth. “He's not involved. You said so yourself: If he got one _sniff_ of this, we're dead. Asking about the newest King Pin isn't exactly my idea of pillow talk.”

 

***

 

He hung up with Mr. White and hesitated for just a few moments before he started dialing Sebastian's number.

 

“Let me just holla' at my girl 'for we head inside,” Jesse laughed, giving his friend a nod as he listened to line ring. He got out of the car, leaning against his and tipping his head up to the gray sky. It looked like it was going to storm.

 

A warm chuckle poured into his ear. “ _Two calls in two days. I'm flattered_.”

 

“Yo, sugar tits, I'm with my boy outside our new dealer's place,” Jesse knew Pete could still hear him and he prayed Seb didn't get angry about the act. “I just wanted to give you a call. Touch base.”

 

“ _'Sugar tits'? Well, I'll say, I've been called many things in my life but never that_.”

 

“Yeah, baby, I miss your sweet ass too.” Now he was just having fun. “I'm, uh, kinda uneasy about doin' this. You wanna give me a kiss for luck?”

 

“ _Don't get yourself into anything serious, Jess. I can come get you, no questions asked_.”

 

“Chill, baby girl, I'll be back later.” Jesse knew he had to quickly defuse the man's worry before it got out of hand. “Maybe when I get home we can talk about that skirt thing, huh? Bet you'd like that.”

 

“ _I'll never stop teasing you about this._ ” Sebastian made a sharp sound with his tongue. “ _But if the situation is light enough for you to joke around, I'm going to assume you're fine. Call me after it's over, if you can._ ”

 

“You know I will, Mama,” he smooched into the receiver. “Big kiss from your man.”

 

“ _I'm holding you to that skirt thing, you little shit_.”

 

Jesse hung up with more confidence than he'd started with, but it still wasn't enough to ease his worries about the whole thing.

 

***

 

It was hinky from the start. Tuco was hard as nails, way rougher than Krazy-8 had been. At least with him his word had meant something. This guy was on edge, to say the least. His eyes had something dark in them, something sharp. Like Sebastian's eyes could get. It took Jesse way too long to realize just what that meant.

 

He was a stone-cold killer. He'd looked into someone's eyes and ended their life with no remorse. More than once, but how eccentric he was. Jesse's brain was screaming at him to run, to get out of there.

 

_Seb wouldn't want me here. He wouldn't want me around this motherfucker._

 

But he kept going, kept talking, and stumbled himself right into the trap.

 

***

 

The price. He should've never asked about the price. He was so fucking stupid.

 

***

 

He would've never thought that thirty-five grand would hurt so much. Thrown in a sack and brought across his head, it was enough to take him to the floor. Tuco was pure muscle and power and he wasn't above hitting a man when he was down. The second blow came as heavy as the first, landing flat enough on the curve of his ribs to crack a few. He could feel each break like a shot of lightning through his limbs, rattling his teeth and nearly making his eyes pop out of his head.

 

Agony tasted like copper pennies.

 

After the fourth hit, his breath was punched out of him along with a name.

 

“ _Seb_ ,” he wheezed, crimson spattering over the marble floor.

 

Sebastian wouldn't have let this happen. He wouldn't have thrown him to the dogs like this, dragged him into the lion's den with pretty promises and then stood around as he was destroyed. He was going to die right here, right now, and Seb would never know what happened to them. They'd cut up his body, feed it to dogs, destroy any evidence that he was ever here.

 

_Whack._

 

Sebastian would've protected him.

 

_Whack._

 

Sebastian would've iced this stupid fucker in a second for even looking at him wrong.

 

_Whack._

 

Why didn't he walk away? Why didn't he listen to his God damn instincts?

 

A swift kick took him up off the floor only for a harsh smack of the money bag to knock him down again. He couldn't scream, he didn't have enough breath. His lips smacked wetly in the blood puddling around his head, lungs protesting to every breath. The world was spinning and narrowing down. Spots speckled his vision. He tried to hold on, clutching at proverbial grass to keep from falling off the face of the Earth. The way Seb kissed him, the weird mash up of accents in his voice, how he always managed to smell good even with oil and grease and car gunk practically embedded into his skin.

 

_Whack._

 

It slipped away from him. All of it. Pain and fear flooded his system, shocking it, pushing him closer to what he was sure was death. He couldn't go. Not yet. What if - ?

 

_Whack._

 

Only one thought slipped through the cracks.

 

“Nobody moves crystal in the South Valley but me, bitch!”

 

_It wasn't supposed to be like this._

 

***

 

“Sebby.”

 

That was Chibs. He'd know that brogue anywhere. Sebastian grinned as he watched the motor coil drain out of the car he was currently beneath, matte liquid pooling in the pain he'd set there. If Chibs was calling him out from the garage that could only mean it was lunch time. His stomach gave an expectant growl at the idea of the usual pizza-and-beer combo his foster father usually ordered in. Maybe he'd send one of the prospects out for a steak. Hell, he was hungry enough, he'd probably have them grab two.

 

“Get out here.”

 

He didn't sound happy.

 

“Shit,” he cursed lowly, slapping his palms down on the concrete. He dug them in and pushed off, rolling himself out. Chibs was standing over him, a cigarette burning between his lips, his scars running deep with his scowl. That was never a good sign.

 

“We need to talk for a tick.” He cut a look toward some of the others scattered through the garage. “Outside. Now.”

 

Sebastian rose obediently, old sneakers skidding across the floor as he followed the older man towards the gravel parking lot.

 

“What's this about?” Chibs' eyes were cold, unreadable. “Has something happened to Mamă?”

 

“No, lad, yer Ma is fine.” A heavy hand clapped down on his shoulder. “Ya know how I have some contacts in the hospitals around here?”

 

Sebastian nodded slowly.

 

“They give me a list of suspicious residents, those who were probably involved in rival gangs and drugs and things.”

 

He nodded again.

 

“There was an incident earlier today.”

 

“Alright,” he drew out the word, brow furrowed up.

 

“Sebby.” Somehow the scars sunk deeper. “Your boy's name was on it.”

 

The bottom fell out of his stomach. A shot of weakness made his knees wobble. Chibs started to move before he had time to register the shock. The man's solid arm curled around his waist to keep him upright. A shuddering breath shook out of him, eyes wide and blank as a thousand terrible scenarios ran through his head.

 

“Is he dead?”

 

“Snap out of it, boy-o!” Chibs gave him a sharp smack that brought him out of it. Sebastian grabbed the Scot by the lapels, desperately searching his face for any hint of his friend's fate.

 

“What happened to him?” Sebastian pleaded, knuckles straining the man's shirt. “What happened to Jesse?”

 

***

 

It wasn't as bad as he anticipated.

 

But it wasn't as good as he'd hoped for.

 

The room was simple, clean, stained with the scent of the hundreds of wilted bouquets that had come through it. He was at the back of room with a curtain pulled halfway across the area. Sounds of the hospital echoed off the walls, the lack of occupants in the other two beds giving them a facade of privacy. The window let in a cheery amount of sunlight but it did little to lift any spirits.

 

“Here you are.” The nurse pulled back the curtain more to let him 'in', gesturing at the patient, “Mr. Pinkman.”

 

“Thank you so much.” He touched her shoulder, handing her his insurance card with the other. “I want him moved to a private room. A nice one. What it doesn't cover, I'll personally pay for. I already left my credit card information with the woman at the front desk. Whatever it takes, as soon as possible.”

 

“Yes, sir, Mr...” She looked the card over, “Mr. Kane.”

 

“Thank you, love, you're a peach.” He thumbed a warm line across her cheek with a fake grin, getting her to blush and smile like a schoolgirl. “Do you mind?”

 

“Oh, of course.”

  
She left with a smile, closing the curtain again (this time all the way).

 

There were only two other occupants in the room. One was dressed in clothes a size too big for him, cheekbones sharp enough to cut diamond and beady eyes set deep in his face. The other was prone on the bed. He looked like he was sleeping, face relaxed and peaceful from the drugs he was surely on. He had a neck brace that rested snugly under his chin and laid across his collarbone. Wires ran out of the opening in his hospital gown, connecting him to the machines that measured his life in beeps and numbers. Bandages peeked out as well.

 

Sebastian stared dumbly at his _dragă_. His lynx. His little dealer. The slim man sitting at Jesse's bedside eyed him with no uncertain fear, wiry body coiling tight to flee. He looked too shaken to attempt a fight.

 

“ 'Sup?”

 

The word was a hesitant olive branch, the man trying to feel out his intent. But there was something in his eyes that gave him away.

 

“You know who I am.” It wasn't a question.

 

“Yeah, man.” The man stood up, offering his fist to bump. “I'm Skinny Pete. Jess told me about you.”

 

Sebastian eyes bounced between the man's hand and face only twice before he lashed out, driving the Pete up against the wall and shoving his forearm into his throat. It was a quick, effective pin. Pete took a pitiful swing but he grabbed it mid-air, smashing it up against the plaster with a hissed threat to break it.

 

“What did you do?” he demanded.

 

“I didn't do nothin', man!”

 

“What did you let happen to him?” His voice wavered. “What did you get him into?!”

 

“Tuco's _crazy_ , man,” Pete sobbed dryly, positively shaking under his hold. “Way worse than we thought. I didn't know he was gonna jump him, Son, I swear. It got stupid so fast and I didn't wanna get my ass whooped. I didn't wanna get shot, yo, you gotta understand! I told 'em to stop, I did!”

 

Sebastian dropped his arm, stepping back and giving the man room. This guy knew who he was, knew who he rode with, knew Jesse. Even if he was a pathetic little worm, he wasn't the problem. He didn't do this to Jesse.

 

“Sit back down.”

 

Pete practically fell into his seat, cradling his face between his hands. His thin body shook, an ugly sound like a sob rising out of him. Sebastian scowled at him and lifted the chart off the bottom of the bed, scanning through it. They had Jesse doped up and for good reason. Broken ribs, and what weren't broken were cracked or bruised up. Hairline fractures. Minor internal bleeding. Whoever attacked him must have hit him with something heavy.

 

“Man,” Pete whined into his palms, “I shoulda' known this was gonna happen. Two dudes can't fight over her without getting' all wound up.”

 

That peeked his interest.

 

“Who?”

 

“Crystal, yo.” Pete wiped his eyes with the back of his head, “She fucks up everything.”

 

“Stop.” Sebastian held up a hand, cutting off whatever the man was going to say. “I don't want to know. It's none of my business.”

 

That sobered Pete up pretty fast.

 

“Jesse's life is his own. If he wants to sell pot and hang around with whores and idiots, that's his choice.” He slid the chart back in place, moving around to the other side of the bed. “Even if it lands him here.”

 

He could feel Pete's eyes on him as he reached out and touched Jesse's hand, thumb tracing the tribal tattoo on his skin. The ring he'd given him was blood-warm.

 

His tough boy with the loud mouth. It had finally landed him in trouble. Some bastard had taken a drug deal to far and beaten his pretty blonde into a pulp. He wanted to demand answers, to know who this dealer was and where he lived so he could go and break some bones himself. He wanted to know how it all happened, what it was over, how it could have been avoided.

 

But staring at Jesse he fond all those urges swamped by the relief of just having him alive.

 

“So he finally got up the balls to talk to you?”

 

Sebastian barely glanced up.

 

“Jess was askin' me about you before all 'a this,” Pete clarified. “I told him about the Sons and anythin' else I could find about you. You two met over some pot or somethin', right?”

 

“Skinny Pete?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Mind your own God damn business,” he growled, the fierceness of it shutting the man up.

 

They stayed like that for a while. Sebastian's mind was in a whirl. He imagined what Jesse's little slutty girlfriend ( _Crystal_ , a stripper name for sure) looked like. She was probably curvy and blonde with the start of crow's feet and legs for days. Or maybe she was some thick-bottomed Spanish girl with stiletto heels and raven hair like waves down her back. Jesse liked his women older and he had good taste. Whoever this fucking 'Crystal' was she was probably long gone by now, waiting to see if Jesse would resurface. He couldn't blame or hate either of them. Jesse and him had never talked of exclusion. They'd never put a name on what they were.

 

If Jesse wanted to share his tight ass and cock with others, he could get used to it. He didn't like it but he could deal.

 

“I'm just glad you're okay,” he breathed, nail tracing a curve of dark ink. It was better to be a jealous mother-hen than to slip into the dark place in his mind that screamed at him to get revenge. To hunt down this drug dealer, put a gun in his mouth, and show everyone in Albuquerque that those who belonged to a Son wouldn't be touched. But he couldn't do that. He had foolishly promised Jesse wouldn't get involved. Monitoring his health would have to do.

 

At least for now.

 

The curtain swooshed back, revealing the middle aged man from before.

 

“You.” Sebastian stood up, fire relighting in his belly.

 

“Ah, Sebastian.” The man was staring at bed in shock. “Someone's already told you.”

 

“Where were you?” Sebastian hissed out through his teeth, “ _Where_ _were you_ , old man?! Why weren't you backing him up?”

 

“Let's not do this here.”

 

“I can't think of a better time to do it.” Sebastian was trying his best not to snarl but it was seeping in.

 

Jesse's partner looked at Pete. “Who's this?”

 

“Fuck who he is.” The harshness of his words snapped the man's eyes to him. “I can see by your face that this is a surprise. Of course, I don't know what you would expect, sending a _child_ in to a drug deal. He can barely drink and you want him to handle a deal that was – apparently – as dangerous as this one?”

 

“You don't really understand.” The man held up a palm, mirroring the gesture he'd done when they'd met at the house. “He sells, I... _grow_. It's supposed to work. This was a disaster.”

 

“Obviously!” Sebastian barked. “He's lucky to have all his teeth after the beating he took!”

 

“Sebastian-”

 

The biker moved quickly, sliding right into the man's personal space.

 

“Fix this,” he demanded, laying a hand on the man's chest to feel his pounding heart that lay under inches of bone and meat. “Make this man pay for what he's done. Because if you don't? I will.”

 

“You don't want involved in this,” Heisenburg assured him.

 

“ 'This'?” Sebasitan clucked his tongue. “ _This_ is being poorly handled. I don't know what's been going on, and I don't want to know. But I'll be _damned_ if I let you get Jesse killed over drugs. Fix it, old man, or we're going to have a problem. A big, _big_ problem. A gang problem. Do you understand me? I want him _safe_.”

 

Heisenburg nodded slowly.

 

“I'll be back once they've moved him to a private room.” Sebastian stepped back, adjusting his cut. “Don't be here when I do.”  


Sebastian was almost out of ear shot when he heard Heisenburg speak.

 

“Tell me about this 'Tuco'. Tell me everything about him.”

 

***

 

“Call me when you move him. If I'm not there, contact me when he wakes up.”

 

***

 

Sebastian went back that night, sweet talking the night nurses and blatantly bribing the janitors to let him stay past visiting hours. He'd kept a vigil at the unconscious blonde's side for as long as he could stay awake, then he'd sucked it up and driven home. Sleeping alone hadn't sounded appealing so he'd crashed at Chib's place, taking the couch and pointedly ignoring the fact that Juice's bike had been outside. Except for when his friend had served him breakfast - that had made up for it.

 

Sebastian headed to the club after he'd eaten, planting his ass on the nearest couch and taking the beer one of the pretty bunnies handed him. She was nice and plump chested, ready to offer him some tender company. He turned it down with a kiss to her hand and a polite smile. He was halfway through the drink when the door to the “chapel” opened, the leading members spilling out. He jumped to his feet and rushed toward them, catching Jax and Clay by the arms.

 

“What's going on?” Sebastian frowned. “Why wasn't I called in?”

 

“Calm down, pretty boy,” Clay teased, wrapped his arm around the younger man's neck and shoving playful knuckles into his thick hair.“You were with that kid in the hospital. We wanted you to get your beauty sleep.”

 

“Bullshit.” Sebastian shoved him away, hurt mixing with the unease he already felt, “Don't infantize me, Clay. Everyone was there but me. Have I done something?”

 

“There was an explosion on the edge of town,” Jax stated, blowing out the paler man's anger as quickly as a breath on a candle flame. “There was a up and coming drug dealer involved. It was a quick decision.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“There's a lot going down in the club right now, Seb. Stuff you've been too busy to get your fingers in.” Clay's thick arms crossed over his chest. “We had to decide whether to get involved or not.”

 

“Of course we'll be involved.” Sebastian caught the look on the man's face. “You've decided to let it go?”

 

“We don't have time to chase every tweaker in town,” Clay scoffed. “We barely got time for our old ladies. If they want to start blowin' themselves up, I'm not going to complain. No one got hurt and from what it looks like it'll be a one-time thing. We all came to a decision to let it go. For now.”

 

“I still don't see why I was left out.”

 

Jax touched his arm. The bastards knew that touch grounded him, kept his emotions at bay. It had been that way since he was small and they weren't above taking advantage of it. The moment his friend's palm rested on the curve of his tricep, he calmed.

 

“You have priorities right now.” Jax gave him one of those charming half-smiles. “And we totally get that. You have your twink and he got roughed up. You're not one hundred percent. We just wanted to give you a break.”

 

“The rules say-”

 

“That if a member can't be present, then the VP has to get a proxy vote,” Jax drawled. “And here I am, the VP, asking you if you're okay with passing on this petty meth dealer.”

 

After a few moments of trying to get the upper hand with his gaze alone, Sebastian finally shrugged.

 

“He dose not seem worth it.”

 

“There's my boy.” Clay gave a light punch to his shoulder. “Now let's go get some food. I don't know about you kids, but I'm starving.”

* * *

**Whew. That was a close one.**

**I'm probably going to be doing a giant gifset-explosion this weekend because I've been posting chapters at school and all my gifs are on the other computer. Hope you guys enjoyed this one.**

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	9. Episode 7: "A No-Rough Stuff Type of Deal"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse come face to face with Tuco again. Sebastian doesn't get what he wants, but it's close.

Sebastian awoke in the middle of a snore, coughing on the aborted breath. Something was going off. Something was demanding his attention.

 

“Fuck.” Sebastian groped around the couch, digging in to the cushions of Chibs' couch. His phone had somehow ended up beneath one and he managed to fish it out.

 

“Hello?” he rasped.

 

“ _Mr. Kane. This is Jennifer. You asked to be called once Mr. Pinkman woke up?_ ”

 

He gave a few hard blinks, trying to rid the sleep from his eyes. The nurse that he'd charmed at the hospital. “Yes, of course.”

 

“ _Well, he's awake and aware if you would like to come see him._ ”

 

“At this hour? Would that be alright?”

 

“ _Mr. Kane, with all due respect, you're paying out of pocket for his room. If you want to come see him, I don't believe anyone will have a problem with it._ ”

 

“You're a lovely white-winged angel, Jennifer,” he cooed, getting her to giggle. “I'll be there within the hour. I'll bring coffee. Two sugars?”

 

“ _And cream._ ”

 

“Can do. Till then.”

 

He hung up, smile fading.

 

Thank God.

 

***

 

After dropping off a round of coffee and crawlers at the nurses’ station and chatting up the tired-eyed staff, Sebastian went to the room he'd requested. It was just as neat and clean-lined as he remembered from the night before. But now a lamp by the bed and one by the window were on, giving the room a synthetic sunlight. It was the best it could be at three in the morning.

 

Jesse was laying on the bed running a hand around his neck, fingers dancing across the red lines the neck brace had left behind. It broke his heart to see the boy try and sit up but stop, groan, and clutch his side instead. He made his way over, eyes scanning every inch that was above the covers. He'd discarded his gown in favor of showing off the top of his bare chest and the thick gauze around his stomach. He had a cut on his lip. Sebastian had missed that earlier. The blonde was smiling way too hard at him, a mix of eagerness to see him and uncertainty about what was going to happen.

 

“Hey, Seb,” Jesse simpered, dragging himself up with a muffled hiss so he could sit against the headboard. “The nurse, uh, told me you paid for all this. Got me my own room and everything. Pretty sweet digs, man. The old chicks here are already in love with you. They kept cluckin' on about how I was lucky to have a good lookin' friend who was willing to take 'proper care' of me or whatever. They didn't have to call you. I just, uh, you know, _woke up_. Still kinda dizzy if I'm being honest. I'm not even sure where we're at or how long I've been out.”

 

Sebastian stayed quiet and sat down on the side of the bed, listening with half an ear as he kept looking.  The younger man sounded wrecked.

 

“Fuck.” The smile started to wilt. “You're angry, aren't you? What do you know? What did those fuckers tell you? I didn't – ”

 

***

 

Jesse stopped as the man scooted closer and carefully wrapped his arms around his shoulders, pulling him in to a hug. It was as firm as it could be without hurting him, reassuring, caring. It made him shudder, hands trembling briefly in the air before he managed to embrace him back. It was hard not to give in to tears. His heart felt like it was bubbling over and he couldn't quite catch his breath, and it had nothing to do with his busted up ribs.

 

“I'm sorry.” Jesse pushed up against him, soaking in every wave of heat that rolled off the older man. He buried his face in his neck and took long breaths, catching the scent of sleep-worn skin and day old cologne. It was everything he'd been missing for days.

 

“I know I didn't call you,” he whispered into the throb of his pulse. “I know I didn't text or do anything else I said I was gonna do. I'm a shit. I'm fuckin' scum on the bottom of your shoe.”

 

“Stop it.” Sebastian barely pulled back enough to give them breathing room. He was grinning from ear to ear, blue eyes shining as his hand came up and cupped the curve of the blonde's jaw. The skin was rough and rasped across his beard. Yeah, all man here, there was no mistaking it. Seb was too handsome, dark scruff over his face and lips the color of a girl's blush. The leather of his jacket was cool against his arms, and when he pressed his fingers down it warmed to the touch. He was looking at him like he was the best thing he'd seen in a long time. It did wonders for Jesse’s ego and his faith.

 

“Sebby.” He wasn't exactly sure what to say.

 

“I almost forgot how cute you are.” The man's thumb brushed tenderly below his eye. “But that's a lie, now, isn't it?”

 

He leaned into his touch, thankful he still had it. Seb must've been clueless about the meth and Tuco and all that shit. Pete had only talked about Mr. White being there. Apparently he'd been too scared to mention the biker's presence.

 

“What do you know, man?” he asked, just to be sure.

 

“I know that even in this ugly light you thrive, _dragă_ ,” Sebastian teased light-heartedly, fingers dropping down to dance across his naked shoulder. “Look at all these freckles. I swear they've sprouted overnight.”

 

The gentle touches put him at ease. He was starting to forget about all the meth he'd smoked, the beating he'd taken, the fear of God that had been struck through him. Then a shadow passed over Sebastian's face. The older man’s voice came out so strained he swore it was going to give out.

 

“I know that some piece of shit who calls himself a 'man' put his hands on you.” Those fingers trailed to his chest, a thumb tracing the curl of his dragon tattoo. “I know your partner is some defenseless old man who could give a shit less about you. I know I almost lost you the other day and I had to find out through my foster father. _That's_ what I know, Jesse.”

 

“If you walk out right now, I wouldn't blame you.” Yet his hand came up and covered the others, a silent plea for him to stay. “I'm not worth this stress, man. You're too good to be payin' some pothead's hospital fees. You don't need this.”

 

“You have no idea what I need,” Sebastian countered. He moved slow, thumb tucking under Jesse's chin light enough to be a request. Icy blue eyes flickered over his face as his lips came forward with intent. But he didn't push, he didn't close that last inch. They sat there and breathed in one another's air, letting the room fade away.

 

“Please?” It sounded like he was pleading, and he was. He didn't want to be all delicate, he didn't want to be Seb's broken bird. He wanted his lover/fuck buddy back. He wanted to be shoved down on the bed and ravaged, rebranded, reminded of where he belonged.

 

“I don't want to watch you die,” Sebastian's lips barely moved as he spoke in a hushed tone, “But I can't walk away.”

 

Jesse started to turn away, ashamed, but the man caught both sides of his jaw in a sharp pinch. The cut on his lip stung but he didn't say anything. Sebastian looked flat angry, an expression he'd never seen on his handsome face before. This was aimed solely at him.

 

“Don't you ever let it get this far again without telling me,” Sebastian's growl was sexy as fuck but the serious note to it kept him from fully enjoying it. “Don't let yourself get in this deep.”

 

“And if I do?” he dared to ask, “You said you wouldn't leave me.”

 

Sebastian let go of his cheeks in favor of dropping down to his neck, palm sliding in place along the harsh curve of his Adam's apple. He didn't clamp down on his windpipe but one flex of his muscles and it would be easily done. The grip slowly tightened. It was a warning if he'd ever felt one.

 

“Sebby?” He touched the man's wrist, eyes going wide as the man's face dropped into a cool mask. It was the same look Tuco on his face – the expression of a killer. He didn't feel true fear but it was damn close. It took a long time before the vice loosened up, eyes softening, then a sigh, a frown. The nape of his neck was cradled instead, the man using the leverage to tug him in until their foreheads touched.

 

“I just don't want to give anyone any excuse to take you away from me,” Sebastian confessed.

 

“Me either.”

 

“I want to ask you to change.” Sebastian dragged his teeth over his lower lip. “But I won't. Because that's not what people do to one another. We don't ask them to change just because we're uncomfortable with what they do.”

 

It was his turn to frown. “You're not gonna ask me to stop?”

 

“No,” he chuckled weakly, “I want to, but I won't.”

 

He wasn't sure whether to be relieved or not.

 

“I don't deserve you.”

 

“Maybe all we deserve is each other.” Sebastian's grin was back full-force now. “And if that's true, I plan on enjoying you.”

 

They finally kissed and it was slow and sweet, a Band-Aid of sorts. Jesse let himself enjoy it as he marveled at his luck. Even after an ass-beating he managed to keep his secret under wraps. Sebastian was going to give him all the sympathy sex he could handle and they'd go back to normal. No suspicions and no hang-ups.

 

So why did he feel like such a shit?

 

His luck was holding strong and (once again) Seb was in the dark, the wool pulled over his eyes and blinding him to how ugly and awful Jesse's life actually was. He was a jerk and he seriously didn't deserve this. Any of this. Stomach acid bubbled up and burned the back of his throat, the thought of the trick he was doing on the man making him sick. 

 

But what else could he do?

 

***

 

“You did _not_ have to do this,” Jesse stated for the fifth time in an hour. Sebastian huffed and rolled his eyes, throwing the car into park in the driveway. The blonde sank further into the seat, fingers spread over his stomach. The bandages were thick there and he was still sore all over, but Seb had convinced the staff to let him go with a bottle of pain killers to keep the edge off. The biker had been gone for the past two hours before coming back to pick him up in his own car.

 

“You don't even know the half of it.” Sebastian got out of the car, coming around to open the other's door too. “I've been thinking about this since you said you wanted to sell the house.”

 

“Oh no, man, what did you actually do?”

 

Jesse had felt like a burden just getting a ride back from the hospital. Whatever had been done was surely going to make him feel ten times worse. He hadn't shared the whole story about the two dealers who'd been melted and poured down his toilet but he'd done his best to get the gist across. The place made him cringe and he didn't want either of them to sleep or eat in there ever again. He didn't need Emilio's ghost watching them fuck.

 

“Trust me and take my arm,” Sebastian offered said limb, giving him a long stare before nodding down at it. “Now, would be preferable.”

 

“Fine,” he huffed. His hat itched and his coat felt too heavy, but he grabbed the crook of his arm and managed to hitch himself up out of the car and to his feet. The day was too warm for all these layers and he couldn't wait to get inside and shed it all. He was surprised when the older man led him toward the RV instead, opening up the door and urging him to climb up.

 

“Are you alright?”

 

“I've got it, yo, chillax,” Jesse laughed, using the railing to pull his dead weight up the few steps and into the trailer. It was cleaner than he remembered, stuff now in organized little piles and on the counters wiped down. It looked nice. Especially the side corner where a cot was set up. It was covered in thick blankets, a couple of pillows, and a TV set plugged in and mounted at the bottom. There was a cooler and a fan within arm’s reach.

 

“Wicked.” The relief bled away as his eyes flickered over the covered boxes, one lidless and exposing some of their cooking equipment. “Did you go through my shit?”

“Of course not,” Sebastian promised, coming in behind him. “I only moved things aside and cleaned so your lungs didn't collapse under a layer of dust. If you're dead set on staying out of that house, for whatever reason, then I'm going to make sure you're in good condition. What do you think?”

“It's perfect.” He turned and pushed up against the biker, moving in for a kiss, “But there's not a lot of room on that for fuckin', now is there?”

 

A hiss followed those words, his body screaming at him for arching into the man's body. His thighs shook and he got a sudden dose of light-headedness.

 

“None of that now,” Sebastian chided, catching him by the shoulders and the back of the knees. It was a brief carry, only a few feet, but it was enough to make him blush.

 

“I'm not a kid,” he protested, getting set down on the make shift bed. He knew from the fire spreading through his ribs that he would've fallen over without his help.

 

“But you're injured,” Sebastian loomed over him for a moment, nuzzling the curve of his jaw and dropping a kiss there, “Which means I can play nurse with your defenseless body.”

“Sexy,” Jesse wheezed, the pressure on his injuries taking his breath. “But maybe not right now. Kind of all talk at the moment.”

 

“How about you shut up and settle down?” Sebastian suggested, tugging at his coat. “Let's get these off.”

 

Jesse wanted to make some smartass comment, maybe conjure up something clever but he was sapped.  His hat, his jacket and shirt, and his shoes were compulsively folded up and put aside. Sebastian seemed to be at ease. It was different. He'd seen the casual friend, the pot head, the lover, the protector, and he'd even caught glimpses of the killer. But this domestic side? That was new. He liked it – maybe more than he should've.

 

“Are you gonna stay with me?”

“For an hour or so,” Sebastian replied, throwing the hat over his shoulder before he started folding the younger man's t-shirt. “I have a run to plan. We've got a deal of our own to make and not a lot of time to do it in.'

“A deal, huh?” Jesse eased down on the cot, trying to settle his protesting bones, “What, like exchanging bikes? Some awesome firearms? You guys lugging around torpedoes?”

 

Sebastian went way too quiet, taking a seat on the cot and shucking his boots off.

 

“Something more serious?” The mirth faded from his voice as he recognized that guarded look. It was something he often wore on his own face when he replaced the word 'meth' with 'pot'. “Like, uh, drugs?”

 

“Jesse.”

 

“It is, isn't it?” He sat up on his elbows despite the flicker of pain through his muscles. “The hardest gang on drugs is runnin' them. That's pretty heavy, man. So, what is it? You guys runnin' pot? Or is it that mind-fucking drug – what's it – jellies? Pills? You runnin' smack?”

 

He should've known not to push. Sebastian had the reflexes and speed of a snake, snapping forward within the space of a breath. A forearm pressed hard against his neck and jaw, forcing his head to the side so his nose just touched the pillow. The man had straddled him but took care not to press down on any of his wounds. Jesse sucked in a gasp, their chests touching on the up-rise. His dick gave a twitch despite how inappropriate it was. Even with his ribs mushed to crap and his head pounding, he couldn't resist Sebastian's warm weight and soft lips brushing against the rim of his ear.

 

“You gonna fuck me or shank me, man?” Jesse knew his demand was weak but he wasn’t sure what else to say.

 

“Don't.” There was that tightness again. “If we start talking about that then _I'm_ the one sucking _you_ in. We can't do that, Jesse. We just _can't_.”

 

Jesse laid a hand on the man's leather-clad shoulder, squeezing it. He was starting to shake with adrenaline, his attack coming back to him in flashes. He knew deep down the man wouldn't hurt him but maybe...maybe...

 

Sebastian slowly moved his arm down, curling his hand up through his blonde hair. The man hushed him lowly, dropping warm kisses on Jesse’s cheek and down into his neck. He rested his head there and sighed, body going limp on the bed and pressed against the younger's side. Conflict practically radiated off him, like he was just as torn up as Jesse was.

 

“Sebby, baby.” He laid his hands on the man's back to rub out soothing circles. “I understand, man, I do. There's some shit we can't get into. If we knew too much then we'd have to-”

 

He stopped, not wanting to say it out loud.

 

If he knew what the Sons ran, it'd put him in danger with everyone. If Seb knew what he cooked, it would end them. (End _him_.)

 

Sebastian heaved a great breath, the air dancing across his bare skin. For the first time since they met, Jesse could feel that the man beside him wasn't super human.

 

“You're tired,” he stated, a little surprised.

 

“Yes,” Sebastian agreed, seemingly watching his fingers spread over stark white bandages, “I haven't been sleeping well. I've taken up residence on Chibs' couch as of late.”

 

“Why?” he tugged on a thick lock of dark hair. “Your bed's the most comfortable one I've ever crashed in.”

 

He felt Sebastian's fingers skimming the edge of his bandages thoughtfully, “I don't like to sleep alone when I'm worried.”

 

That tugged at Jesse's heartstrings.

 

“No guilt trips until I can breathe again, alright?”

 

Sebastian's chuckle shook through them both.

 

***

 

“Junk yard? Let me guess – you picked this place?”

 

“What's wrong with it? It's private.”

 

“This is like a non-criminal's idea of a drug meet. This is like, 'Oh, I saw this in a movie. Ooo, look at me.”

 

“So where do you transact your business? Enlighten me.”

 

“I don't know. How about Taco Cabeza?” Jesse pulled out his phone and started to tap out a message to Seb, “Half the deals I've ever done went down at Taco Cabeza. Nice and public. Open twenty-four hours. Nobody ever gets _shot_ at Taco Cabeza. _Hell_ , why not the mall? You know, wait at the Gap. 'Hey! It's time for the meet!' You know, I'll put down the flat-front khakis, head on over, grab an Orange Julius.”

 

He cut a hard glare at Mr. White, “Maybe I'll skip the part where psycho lunatic Tuco, you know, comes and steals my drugs and leaves me bleeding to death.”

 

The older man looked him over from behind his sunglasses, “What are you doing?”

 

“Textin' Seb, what does it fucking look like?” He hit send before shoving it away. “He's paranoid now. As he should be. There's some conditions and shit to me comin' out in the middle of nowhere like this.”

 

“You're telling him where we are?” There was a note of panic there.

 

“Don't get your tighty-whities in a twist. It's just the basics. He just thinks we're selling a huge amount of grass out here.”

 

“Jesse.” Mr. White said his name with the same exasperation as his dad used to, “If you let him keep tabs on you, eventually he's going to find out exactly what we're doing.”

 

“No he won't,” Jesse snapped. “He's making a huge effort not to look too much into it. He knows Tuco's name but he promised not to ask around about it or anything.”

 

“He was in the RV. He saw the glassware.”

 

“It doesn't matter.” He was trying so hard to be tough but he knew the man was right. “He doesn't want to get involved. Besides, he's not exactly clean either. The Sons are runnin' drugs too so he can't say too much about it.”

 

That caught the teacher's attention. “Methamphetamine?”

 

He let out a snort, “Not likely.”

 

“Heroin?”

 

“Don't, dude,” Jesse's humor cut off. “Don't ask. Seb was real fucking touchy about it. All I know is that the Sons don't have a lot of free time on their hands. I'm pretty sure they're dealing with, like, a pack of Tucos. It's probably the only reason all this crystal is getting pushed around.”

 

“At least there's that.” Mr. White shifted his hat around on his head a bit, trying to find a good angle. “I'm glad you're getting some insight on the, uh, Sons. That's one problem I would like to avoid for as long as possible. I'd prefer to track _their_ movements rather than the other way around.”

 

That set his teeth on edge. “I'm not a mole and Seb's not a mark. Don't say that shit again.”

 

“Jesse, he's a nice young man. Really,” Mr. White soothed. “But any higher ground we can get needs to be explored. You have to expand your reach. Take advantage of your position.”

 

“And what position is that exactly?” Jesse asked in a low, drawn out tone that showed the older man just what thin ice he was on, “Beneath Sebastian? Are you saying I should pump his dick for information? Is that what you're getting at, Mr. White? You want me to whore myself out?”

 

Some color came to his pallid cheeks, “I didn't mean it like that.”

 

“Yeah, I'm sure.” He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, running his thumb nervously over the curve of his ring, “I don't fuck for info. I either pay for it or I sweet talk.”

 

“I didn't mean to offend you.”

 

“Drop it, dude,” Jesse huffed. “Seb's none of your business anyway.”

 

“He made himself my business in the hospital.”  
  
Jesse opened his mouth to ask him about what had gone down by his ears caught the sound of a car approaching. Rap music poured out of the dark SUV, dust kicking up behind it. His heart picked up on the rhythm, a sound like a whimper escaping his lips. He touched the back of his head, trying to calm himself and be cool, but his ribs gave a kick of complaint. He rubbed a hand across them, the bandages catching against the fabric. A physical reminder that he wasn't in the best shape and Tuco had been the one to put him there.

 

Mr. White picked up on his shifting mood. “Look, you don't have to be here for this. I mean, seriously, I'm okay.”

 

Jesse considered it. Not for him, but for Sebastian. He could duck out right here, right now. It would put him out of danger and put his kinda-sorta-not-actually boyfriend at ease. Mr. White could handle himself. And if he couldn't, who gave a fuck? He was just some old man. An old man with cancer, and a wife, and a little girl on the way.

 

“Nah. I'm not pussy.” He shook the tension out of his shoulders. “I'm good.”

 

***

 

“Can you handle four pounds?”

 

Jesse was going to throw up all over Tuco's four hundred dollar shoes.

 

***

 

“So you do have a plan? Yeah, Mr. White! Yeah, science!”

 

“Okay...”

 

The teacher tore off the paper he'd been writing on and slapped it on the table in front of him.

 

“What's this?”

 

“That is a shopping list.” He rubbed his mouth thoughtfully, “Uh...getting some of those items may be challenging.”

 

Jesse read the list out loud and it seemed that with every word his tongue swelled up, growing fatter and lazier in his mouth until he had to give up.

 

“Yo, Mr. White, I can't even pronounce half this shit!” Jesse declared, tossing the paper back down. “This is a bum deal, man. I don't even know where to start looking.”

 

The man's fingers tapped off the desk, “You said Sebastian's...well, his _gang_ ran drugs. If they're dealing with methamphetamine too, then-”

 

“Don't even say that shit,” Jesse glared, “If he hears that – hell, if I hear it again – you're gonna get your ass beat, okay? Seb wouldn't touch crystal.”

 

“It was a thought.”

 

“A bad one.”

 

*****

 

“These thieves – did they say where they would be stealing it from?”

 

“Yeah, a chemical supply place south of town. They got guards and security cameras, they got steal doors. That's why these dudes are charging so much.”

 

“So why don't we just...steal it ourselves?”

 

“Yeah? How we gonna do that?”

 

***

 

“Hey, Seb.”

 

It sounded like someone was soldering something over the line.

 

“ _Do I even want to know_?”

  
“Uh,” he drew out the sound, “Probably not. But you wanted to know when I was doing dangerous shit, right?”

 

“ _Yes, I did say that_.”

 

“Well, there's kinda a good chance I'm gonna get arrested for this. We're gonna try and jack some well-guarded shit and I don't have a lot of faith in it.”

 

 _“Let me help. I'm practically standing inside a car right now but I can be there within the hour_.”

 

This man couldn’t be for real. “No, dude, we talked about this.”

 

“ _If it's just stealing_ -”

 

“It's not _just_ stealing, it's never just stealing.”

 

“ _You expect me to just sit around and wait until I get another phone call telling me you're alright or you're in jail? You have injuries, Jesse_. _I can do some heavy lifting, and not just figuratively._ ”

 

“My ribs are good, yo. And yes, I do expect it 'cause it's what we agreed to. Business lives separate, remember?”

 

“ _Yes, fine. Business lives separate_ ,” he echoed. “ _Is the swelling down? Has the color faded_?”

 

“They're officially going yellow and I don't look like a water balloon anymore. You happy? 'Cause I need to go, man.”

 

“ _I understand. I do too. But do call me when you get arrested. I'll bail you out_.”

 

“Thanks, Seb. Later.”

 

***

 

“ _You're calling so I assume you're not dead_.”

 

“Yep. Not dead.”

 

“ _Arrested_?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“ _Do you have more work to do_?”

“Loads.”

 

“ _So I assume you forgot about the open house you have scheduled today_?”

 

“Oh shit!”

 

Before he hung up, Sebastian heard a desperate shout that shouted like, _Mr. White!_

 

***

 

“Yo! You aint' seein' the basement, bitch! You got that? Is that sinkin' in? Now beat it, all ya'll! The house is not for sale! Now get the hell out!”

 

***

 

Their first batch came to perfect.

 

Jesse shed his mask and fetched a pair of tweezers. He dropped down to one knee in front of the table they were cooking to get eye-to-eye with the meth. He'd never seen or heard of methylamine before but it did something pseudo didn't – it turned the meth blue. A familiar blue, in fact. He plucked up a piece and held it up to the light to get a better look.

 

His heart plummeted into his stomach – splattering, splintering, and shredding him up.

 

The crank was the exact same shade as Sebastian's eyes. Why did that make him feel so guilty?

 

“You made ice,” Jesse awed. “By definition, this is pure ice.”

 

“ _We_ made it,” Mr. White corrected him.

 

“Huh.” He turned the crystal around, watching the way the dingy cellar light made it sparkle. “ _We..._ made ice.”

 

*****

 

“Ah! Tight, tight, tight, yeah. Ah – blue, yellow, pink, whatever man. Just keep bringing me _that_.”

 

***

 

It went downhill too quick to stop. In one moment, Tuco was laughing. In the next, he had blood spattered all over his front. Warning bells were ringing so loud in his head that he almost believed he could hear them. His mouth dropped open dumbly, adrenaline and fear rushing through his blood so fast that it made him dizzy.

 

Then they were gone, leaving him and Mr. White behind with the stench of blood in their noses.

 

They got in the car and listened as his partner rattled off numbers, trying to come up with a solid amount of money to get for his family. Mr. White's nerves were showing. Jesse's skin buzzed in response, fingers twitching slightly as he tried to settle down. His thumb rubbed hard at the side of his stone ring, letting it warm up under his touch. He was dying to call Sebastian right now; he wanted to demand the man come get him right now so they could go back to his apartment and fuck, cuddle like girls, eat, and sleep wrapped so tight around each other that they'd have to unstick themselves in the morning. He wanted to have Sebastian's heartbeat under his head, he wanted the bastard to sniff his hair in that weird way he liked to do. He wanted to be safe and warm and far away from Tuco.

 

“Seven hundred and thirty seven thousand dollars. That's what I need. That is what I need,” Mr. White repeated with conviction. “You and I both clear about seventy grand a week. That's only ten and a half more weeks.”

 

Jesse blew out a long breath.

 

“Call it eleven. Eleven more drug deals, and always in a public place from now on. It's doable. It's definitely doable.”

 

He could sense that the teacher wanted to say something along the lines of _We'll be okay_ but his silence said more. And that was as honest as it got.

 

Jesse was sure it couldn't get any worse until Tuco came back.

 

 

* * *

 

**I did a super mass of gifsets for each chapter over on my[blog](http://emono-omae.tumblr.com/). There's a [first-timey](http://emono-omae.tumblr.com/post/81692069411/i-wont-hurt-you-if-you-just-let-me-take-you) one, a [beginning-of-the-next-arc](http://emono-omae.tumblr.com/post/81692814766/the-point-is-four-months-after-i-met-seb-my-life) one, [bit-of-an-adventure](http://emono-omae.tumblr.com/post/81694638186/i-was-going-to-pick-him-up-something-two-days-ago) one (which is my favorite), [Seb-not-happy](http://emono-omae.tumblr.com/post/81695563904/no-seb-no-he-grabbed-the-mans-shirt-when-he) one, and then one for [this chapter](http://emono-omae.tumblr.com/post/81794364690/i-dont-deserve-you-maybe-all-we-deserve-is). I love making gifsets, though no gifs are mine. So click a link, check it out. Leave kudos, leave a comment, go like or (preferably, because I hope you love me) reblog a set so I can feel your love. Let me FEEL IT *grabby hands***

**Also, the support really keeps me going. Fanfic is only rewarding when I know my audience is having a good time. Love you guys, see you next time.**

 

 

 


	10. Season 2, Ep. 1: "Seven Thirty-Seven"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian helps his boy out the only way he knows how but it's not enough. Tuco cannot be stopped. Or can he?

**Sorry it took me so long. Finals week lasted three weeks and I started another story and *rolls out long list of excuses* You know the drill. Hopefully two chapters will make up for it.**

* * *

 

“What's the big hurry?”

 

“I – uh, I just think we're done here.”

 

There was a long, breathless moment.

 

“You're done.”

 

When he felt Tuco's hand on the back of his neck his mind went terrifyingly blank. He was pushed, hard, and his fingers ripped across gravel. He was going to get iced right there in the middle of a junkyard. Sebastian would come looking for him and find him shoved under a car somewhere, brain half gone, bloody and maybe cut up to make it easier or –

 

Tuco wasn't doing anything. Jesse made it to his feet, got in the car, and they left.

 

Something needed to give here.

 

*****

 

That night, Jesse found himself standing outside of Sebastian's apartment. He knew what he needed to do and he wasn't sure where else to go. He tugged off his hat and pocketed it before he knocked. When there wasn't an answer or a sound from the other side, he silently berated himself for not calling ahead first. He tried again; this time there was a call to wait.

 

Sebastian pulled the door opened and his polite smile morphed into a frown. The man looked so good, even more so after of the shitty couple days he's had. He caught a whiff of Chinese food and laundry detergent. Jesse closed his eyes and let himself enjoy it. The place fucking smelled like home.

 

“You watched someone die today.”

 

It was such a shockingly blunt statement that all Jesse could do was nod.

 

“My Jesse,” Sebastian sighed, stepping aside. “Come in.”  


He was led over to the couch and urged to sit. Jesse practically sank into it, palms rubbing over the material. He'd honestly believed for a minute there that he'd never see this place again. With the way his phone had been blowing up all night with creepy breathing and rapid-fire Spanish, he wasn't entirely convinced he'd see it after this. He knew he was being watched and it was only a matter of time until someone put a tail on him. He knew at least in this apartment he was safe, if only for the few minutes this would take. He couldn't bear to put Sebastian in danger for any longer than necessary.

 

There was a crack of a can being opened. When he opened his eyes he saw Sebastian sitting down and offering him an energy drink. He snatched it and tilted it back, chugging in great greedy gulps that made his jaw ache. Caffeine was a much better rush than the adrenaline had been.

 

“I thought that would be better than a beer or something to eat, though I'd prefer you leave with a full stomach,” Sebastian tisked, turning toward him on the couch so their knees touched, “But I thought that would be more prudent, seeing as you won't be staying long.”

 

Jesse panted when he finally lowered the can, most of it gone.

 

“Not by my choice,” Sebastian pointed out, plump lips pursed in a tight line, “You came here for something and then you're going to go right back out there. To the wolves.”

 

“I'm a bad dealer,” Jesse choked out, the drink sticking in his throat, “ 'm a bad friend, bad partner, son, you name it. I can't get it right. I keep trying and nothing works out no matter what I do. Shit, Seb…I'm a bad boyfriend.”

 

He grabbed a handful of dark hair, fingers curling so hard he knew it had to hurt. Sebastian didn't flinch or make a sound but he did reach up and mirror the action in his own mess of blonde. There was a sting and some roots gave way, but it was just what he needed. They kissed. The contact was substantially more gentle, a contrast to the harshness of the situation.

 

“You're just fine the way you are,” Sebastian pressed a dry kiss to his mouth, then another right beside it, “Don't ever doubt that.”

 

“I wish I was...” Jesse trailed off uncertainly, “I don’t know. _Better_ , I guess.”

 

“You don't need to be,” he assured him, the grip of their hands slowly lessening as the younger man's craving for some kind of pain faded out. “Stay the night. Don't go back.”

 

“I can't,” he chewed the side of his lip, trying not to whine around it. “It's not safe for you.”

 

The biker tensed. “How much trouble are you actually in?”  


He wasn't in the mood to argue. “Dude.”

 

Sebastian looked over his face thoughtfully, “If you're here long enough to sit down but not enough to eat or fall into bed...then...why are you here?”

 

“This.” Jesse carefully pulled the small gun he'd bought off a shady dealer out of his jacket, holding it out in the palm of his hand. The safety was on. The last thing he wanted to do was come off as threatening. The older man's eyes went cold when he saw it.

 

“I need bullets,” he finally admitted.

 

Sebastian took the gun from him, knowing fingers unlatching the chamber to count the ammo there. He tested the weight, checked the small sight, and rubbed his thumb over the mouth of it before giving the skin a small lick.

 

“This gun is hot,” he spat, “Do you have any idea how many bodies are attached to this?”

 

“No. I didn't ask.”  


Without another word, Sebastian got up and walked out of the living room. Jesse couldn't even begin to predict how this was going to go. Was he going to get left? Reported? The whole thing made his head spin. What had his life become? Last year about this time he was cooking small time and partying every other night. He wasn't wrapped up around some ganger, he wasn't synthesizing blue crystal with an old Chemistry teacher, and he wasn't scared of every thump and phone call like they were bringing death.

 

When Sebastian came back, the gun was gone. In its place was something larger, sleeker, and coal black. It looked like something a cop would carry.

 

“Here.” Sebastian knelt down between his legs, setting a box of ammo on the coffee table. “I want you to take this.”

 

He was just giving it to him?

 

“What is this shit?”  


“This 'shit' is the Sig Sauer Pro SP twenty twenty-two,” Sebastian rattled off, showing him that the safety was on before sliding it into the blonde's hand. “This thing is on-point and it barely recoils. Maybe a bit heavy but the grip is malleable. It's completely broken in and I clean it regularly. It should be good to go.”

 

“Sebby, no,” his voice crackled like static, “This is you gettin' involved, man. I can't-”

 

“Jesse!” Sebastian's voice snapped like lightening. For the first time there was real anger there, in his tone and on his face. The blonde wanted to immediately apologize and scramble away but the older man kept their fingers laced over the handgun. “Let me...let me do this. If I can't be there beside you, let me protect you in the only way I know how.”

 

Jesse leaned down and brushed their lips, a small gesture that calmed them both down a little.

 

“Okay,” he breathed, “Okay, Seb.”

 

“I wish I could take you on the range and teach you properly but I don't think there's time for that.” Sebastian scanned the blonde's face, confirming the fact by the tightness around his eyes. “I think this gun will keep you safer than whatever that piece of trash you bought will. I'll show you how to load and reload it.”

 

Heads nearly together and hands working over metal, Sebastian showed the younger man that and more. He explained how to line up a shot, how to keep his cool before pulling the trigger, and how to lock the safety and use the gun as a club.

 

“It's heavy but it will only buy you time.”

 

When he finally decided to leave, it nearly killed them both.

 

“Please don't do this.”

 

His proud, grinning Sebastian was now melancholy. He was holding onto his hand in the doorway, refusing to let go, pleading with him to reconsider with every breath he took.

 

“I don't want to,” Jesse confessed.

 

He took a step back, their fingers tightened on instinct.

 

Neither wanted this to happen.

 

“What if I follow you?”

 

“You'll get us both killed.”

 

“So it's okay if only _you_ die?” Sebastian demanded.

 

“You think I want to do this?” Another step back. “You think I _like_ this?”

 

“Then stop!”

 

“ _I can't_!” he ripped his hand away, scream dying off into a small whine. The older man looked as if he'd been backhanded.

  
“I'm in too deep,” he admitted, rubbing a thumb over his knuckles in hopes of massaging away the strong compulsion to grab the man's hand again. “There's a lot of money involved. And Mister...Heisenburg. He's got cancer, Seb, and a family. He's an asshole but he's got good intentions and shit. It feels good helpin' him, even if doing it has completely trashed my life.”

 

“Fuck this guy and his family!”

 

It almost hurt to hear Sebastian be so harsh.

 

“You'd do it too,” Jesse caught his eyes and saw the truth. “You'd do it in a second if it meant helpin' some old sick guy make his family's life easier. You'd take a bullet to help some handicapped kid and an unborn baby girl.”

 

“Not if it meant losing you.”

 

***

 

Those words echoed in his head as he all but ran out of there.

 

Why was everything so fucking hard?

 

*****

 

Jesse laid the gun in front of Mr. White, getting a wide-eyed stare.

 

“No...”

 

“It is him or us, do you understand?! It is _him_ or _us_!” Jesse barked out harshly, refusing to give in to the older man's softer spoken request. “And after us, then who? Your wife, your kids...Seb...there won't be a safe place to hide, Mr. White.”

 

“Do you even know how to use that?”

 

“Yeah, mostly.”

 

“Have you ever shot it?”

 

“Well...” he looked down at the gun, “No.”

 

Mr. White forced him to walk through the process. How he would do it, what would go down, and no matter how he thought it over it always ended one way – _bad_. He sat down and put his head in his hands, faith crumbling under the force of reality. He remembered everything Sebastian had told him and it still wasn't enough. He'd be too slow, or they'd get ganged up on, or he'd run out of bullets. What if it didn't have it in him to go through with it? And if he managed to try – would he live?

 

“It's not so easy, is it?”

 

“Hey, man, you did it.”

 

Mr. White looked uneasy at that statement. It hung in the air between them, weighing on them, forcing them to really look at what they'd done (what they were planning on doing).

 

“Yeah.”

 

That wasn't the reassuring answer he'd been looking for.

 

***

 

Ricen. That was their plan. It was a good one, too. He was all about poison and getting rid of their Tuco problem without all the bullets and bloodshed.

 

He was keeping his gun, though.

 

***

 

The amount of 'poison' those beans had rendered was small. Too minuscule for comfort.

 

“That's all it takes?”

 

“That's all it takes.”

 

***

 

Mr. White showed him the image on the phone. It was a dead man on his knees beside a limp body – Gonzo, beside the guy Tuco had killed. The teacher sprang up like a much younger man and started up the stairs, the blonde following a few long seconds later once he realized what he was after. The man made a beeline to the drawer he'd shoved Seb's gun, pulling it open and plucking it out.

 

“I'm taking this!”

 

“No fucking way!” Jesse made a grab for it but the man was squirmy. “That's my gun! I need it!”

 

“No you don't! Not if you leave town,” Mr. White insisted, “Call Sebastian, get more guns, and get out of here. Tuco killing Gonzo means he's coming after us next. You have him and I have my – my family. I have to get to them.”

 

***

 

_'You didn't quite reach me. Leave a message.'_

 

“Seb.” He had the phone shoved between his shoulder and his ear as he dug around under the sink, fisting the strap of his duffle bag and yanking it out. “I'm comin' over. I'll be there in, like, uh, half an hour. Some shit is goin' down and I need to get outta town. I'm not, like, askin' you to come with me or anything, But maybe I could boost a ride? I need a hideout real bad. It'd be a big favor and I'd owe you forever, man. I wouldn't ask if this wasn't super fucking serious. And I'm gonna need another – ”

 

Something cool and hard touched the back of his neck, making him freeze.

 

“...another...”

 

He swallowed thickly, glancing back to see a familiar pair of expensive shoes.

 

“ _Gun_ ,” he finally choked out.

 

***

 

“Get in.”

 

And just like that, they were both kidnapped.

 


	11. Season 2, Ep. 2: "Grilled."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse fights for his life.

Tuco made him drive out of the city. Way out. Even without the aid of the sun for reference point, Jesse knew it was just red sand and flatland for at least fifty miles in any direction. There was barely a road to follow. Gun pressed into the side of his head, Tuco ordered him to pull over. There was no landmark, no house, and no one else to indicate that the spot was special. He obeyed, hoping that this wasn't the place they would die.

 

Still at the wrong end of a gun, they were lead out into the night and forced to get in the trunk. It wasn't too cramped but the adrenaline choked them up, made it harder to get their limbs to cooperate. The last thing they saw was Tuco's snarling face and the pinpricks of stars in the sky.

 

***

 

Time trickled away as the sun crept through the cracks. They grew hazy, heads filling up with cotton as the adrenaline finally wore off. They were half curled up and facing one another, the older's breath coming in an uneven rhythm as the drive continued. His body was probably feeling the lack of medication. With as far along as his cancer was he was probably used to taking a dozen pills by now.

 

Jesse stared at nothing in particular, one arm under his head while the other hand lay curled up beside his chin. His hat had become itchy from sweat and he'd discarded it somewhere behind him. He'd occasionally bite his lip or shift but didn't make any move to get out. The gun and both their cellphones were up front, there was no emergency latch, and there were no tools he could use. A tiny crowbar that wouldn't do much. No reason. No point. Not worth the effort.

 

Sebastian would be worried. If he got that voice mail he'd be out looking for him right now. Maybe he'd be able to trace his cellphone, but even that was a long shot. He'd search for a week for him, then maybe another two for his body, and a fourth for his killer. Eventually he'd get tired of it. He'd get a fifth week to mourn and then – _bam_ – he'd be over Jesse within two months.

 

Blue eyes filled with tears, heavy droplets wobbling right on the edge and in his lashes but not yet falling.

 

Would it be that easy to forget him? 'Cause he'd never forget Sebastian.

 

Jesse sniffed and tried to remember everything he could, bundling all his memories up like a pillow fort around him. If he concentrated he could almost smell the gun oil that had stained Sebastian's fingers back in the apartment. Back there where it was safe...he could see it like a photograph. Seb on the couch, his hair ruffled up, face flushed and eyes hooded in anger. Not just angry, he'd been pissed, like he knew this was going to happen. His cheeks had just started to stubble. His lips, those usually smooth lips, had been chapped from too much worry-biting. His clothes had been slept in, rumpled.

 

Warmth rippled through him. Even looking his worst, Seb was the best thing in his life he could think of. Just _imagining_ the man's fingers in his hair or rubbing along his belly made the vice in his chest loosen up.

 

“Mr. White?”

 

A few wayward tears finally escaped, tickling his nose and dripping down to get eaten up by the trunk's lining.

 

“Mr. White, you awake?”

 

There was a sliver of light on the man's cheek and he saw his eyes open briefly.

 

“I think I'm in love with Seb.”

 

The Chemistry teacher coughed briefly. “You...should've told him.”

 

Jesse covered his face with his sleeve, soaking up the fresh flood of tears.

 

“You know what's real fucked up?” he sniffed and rubbed hard enough at his eyes to make them sting. “Even if I saw him again, I wouldn't tell 'im.”

 

Mr. White was looking at him now, brow furrowed.

 

“Why?”

 

“ 'Cause I'm trash.”

 

There was a long pause. He bit down onto his sleeve, heart aching at the fact that either the older man either agreed with him or fell asleep. The weight of a hand falling on his shoulder shocked him out of tears, forcing him to lift his head and meet the other man's gaze head on. It was fuzzy and there was sweat beaded across his forehead, but Mr. White looked as sincere as he was scared.

 

“Jesse,” he huffed in that way that made him sound impatient, “You're not trash.”

 

His body sagged from tension he didn't know he was holding.

 

“Thanks, Mr. White.”

 

***

 

“You. Out.”

 

Tuco dragged his partner out of the trunk, leaving the hood up so the early day sun spilled right into the blonde's eyes. Jesse wrapped his fingers around the crowbar he'd found earlier and swung out, trying not knock the gun away. With Mr. White all but out of commission the flame of rebellion had been relit in his chest, giving him new energy.

 

“Let me out!”

 

The lid was slammed down onto his forearm, threatening to crush the bone and forcing him to let go of the slim metal. He recoiled just in time for the trunk to shut again.

 

“Slow down, bitch,” Tuco commanded.

 

He was getting sick and tired of being called that.

 

“You gonna shoot me, huh?!” Jesse screamed, kicking and thrashing against the metal as if it would do him good, “Shoot me in here! I hope I bleed like a mother, too! That way you've gotta clean it up!”

 

“This is your car, retard. I ain't cleanin' shit,” Tuco lifted the lid and shoved a gun in his face, “You got somethin' to say now, bitch boy?”

 

“Yeah,” he grit his teeth, bravery fading fast, “Where's my fuckin' phone?”

 

“Broke it up. Ain't no one gonna be callin' you now.”

 

_Seb is gonna flip shit._

 

He'd been hoping to bargain off a call but that wasn't going to happen now.

 

“That nine-mil is out there too. Don't know how a shit like you got a hold of something like that, but it belongs to the desert now.”

 

_God. Damn it._

 

“Get out.”

 

Jesse rose up on his knees a little less gracefully than he'd intended, barely managing to put his hands on the edge of the trunk before the man grabbed him by the jacket and flung him down into the dirt. He was tempted to yell something stupid but not a lot came to mind.

 

_I got a boyfriend who's a Son and when he finds out about this he's gonna put a God damn bullet in your head, asshole!_

 

Somehow he knew that just wasn't going to cut it.

 

***

 

The old man's house, the one Tuco had apparently bought him, was like a brick oven. They'd been planted on a couch and after an hour Jesse was sure they were going to melt away. When the banger finally came back with some water, it had a price.

 

“Empty your pockets.”

 

After drinking their fill, they stood up and followed through. Tuco went through Mr. White's stuff first, finding pictures of his family and discovering his real name. Jesse started fiddling with his ring when Tuco began picking through his wallet. He found the condom he'd stashed in there, his license, and a folded up post it note. He unfolded it, revealing a decent sketch of a busty waitress downtown that had been flirting with him. Her breasts had been drawn comically large, her waist super thin, and her hair way bigger than it had been in person. She winked up at Tuco, little hearts drawn around her head to show her interest.

 

“ 'Seb',” Tuco read the name signed at the bottom of the note, giving the blonde the evil eye, “What's a 'Seb'?”

 

“It's just slang for 'bitch', that's all.” But the answer was too quick, too rushed, to be honest.

 

“Sit down, both of ya.”

 

Once they were back on the couch, Tuco stood up and came around the table. Jesse flinched and tried to sink into the couch but the man wasn't yielding.

 

“Give me your hand.”  


“Fuck you, man,” he hissed under his breath.

 

“You gonna let me see your fingers or am I gonna have break 'em?”

 

Jesse held out his left hand.

 

“Not _that_ _one_.”

 

He bit the side of his lip, “Shit, yo, Tuco-”

 

“Let me see your hand, bitch!”

 

He shoved out his other, the one with the ring. Tuco tapped the barrel of the gun against the stone with a small _clink_. The gun came up and jabbed him in the jaw, forcing his head to the side. The warm metal brushed a sore spot on his neck.

 

“Look at this,” Tuco chuckled, “You really _are_ a little bitch boy, aren't ya?”

 

Jesse pushed away and further into the couch, fingers coming up to touch whatever the man was looking at. There were rough lines on his skin, probably red. They were fingernail marks from when Sebastian had grabbed him and kissed him before he'd run out. It had been a last, desperate act to get him to stay and it had almost worked.

 

“Fuckin' faggots, huh?” Tuco slowly walked around the other side of the table, zeroing in on Mr. White now, “You can't find any good grunt dealers these days.”

 

If there was any question about it before, it was confirmed now. If they were going to die today, he was going first.

 

***

 

“Answer me one thing. Can I trust you?”

 

“Yes. Yes, absolutely.”

 

***

 

“I trusted him like a brother! I was good to him, I was good! I see Gonzo – and I'm gonna _gut_ him!” Tuco roared, plunging a knife hard into the kitchen counter with every other word, “I'm gonna _skm_ 'im! I'm gonna _skin his hide_ for a leather bag!”

 

The knife stuck in the wood for the last time. Tuco paced for a few seconds before he started punching the air, harsh shout breaking down into what could almost be called sobs.

 

“Every. Time. I hit him it'll be like a lesson to myself!” his face was so red that they were sure his heart would give out any second, “You never, _never_ never trust the people that you love!”

 

His words bounced off the wall. The monster's heart was breaking. Or at least what he had that could pass for a heart. Keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the killer, Jesse thumbed at his ring.

 

 _You're wrong, man. You're so wrong,_ he wanted to say. _Those people are the only ones you can trust._

 

***

 

Sebastian hunted Juice down and shoved him in front of his laptop.

 

“I've been trying to call Jesse for hours,” Sebastian stated, hitting the speaker button on his phone, “Listen to this.” 

 

“ _Seb, I'm comin' over. I'll be there in, like, uh, half an hour_ ,” Jesse was breathless and it sounded like he was rooting around in something. “ _Some shit is goin' down and I need to get outta town. I'm not, like, askin' you to come with me or anything, But maybe I could boost a ride? I need a hideout real bad. It'd be a big favor and I'd owe you forever, man. I wouldn't ask if this wasn't super fucking serious. And I'm gonna need another_ – ”

 

Over the line, the boy gasped.

 

“... _another_... _gun_.”

 

“I got that last night,” Sebastian stated, bringing up the boy's number and putting the device down in front of his friend. “He won't pick up now. I think something happened to him.”

 

Juice made a sour face, “And you want me to – what?”  
  
“Find him. Obviously.”

 

“Obviously.” But Juice already bringing up the program he used to run numbers. Sebastian watched with knowing eyes. He was familiar with all the tech but it would've taken him much longer. Juice was just faster and better.

 

“Nothing's come up.” True, the screen showed no results. “Either it's off or-”

 

“Or what?”

  
“Or it's broken, man.”

 

***

 

Jesse knew his fear was bleeding into his voice, his face, and into his sales pitch. But he also knew if he didn't get Tuco to huff that crystal they were goners. Mr. White would get forced down to Mexico and he'd be shot execution style in the backyard, body left to rot in the sun until the police finally wised up and tracked them down (which could be weeks).

 

Who'd come in to identify him? His parents would downright refuse, that's for sure. Seb would go. They'd pull back the sheet and he'd be all swollen and torn up from heat and predators. He'd be fucking gross and Seb still wouldn't look away.

 

_“Yes, officer, that's him. That's...that's Jesse.”_

 

Maybe he'd do him a solid and spread his ashes somewhere nice.

 

And why would he be thinking all this?

 

Because Tuco hated chilli powder and that's exactly what came out of his mouth as the secret ingredient. That, and the moment he finished his hit of pure Blue Magic he was coming at him with a gun and he was planning on painting the wall with his brains. But Mr. White stood up for him, refusing to cook unless he was kept alive.

 

“He's my partner,” Mr. White insisted with a straight face, “And if he doesn't go – I don't go.”

 

“I'll tell you this,” Tuco jabbed the barrel of his handgun into the teacher's sweat-soaked shirt, “My cousins are driving up here right now to smuggle us back down and they're gonna be here by sunset and you are gonna be on that truck or you're gonna _be dead!_ ”

 

The gun turned on Jesse, pointing right between his knees to where his body was so defensively curled up.

 

“And you.” The blonde's breath came in weak shudders. “You better hope they got room in the trunk.”

 

***

 

Tuco was busy cooking, taking a hit every now and then to keep his high going. His _Tio_ was staring at the screen, paying them no attention on the couch. They watched the killer closely, only daring to speak under their breath.

 

“Chilli powder,” Mr. White scoffed lowly, “Did I not already tell you how moronic that was?”

 

“Whatever, man, at least I _tried_ something,” Jesse shot back accusingly, hands wringing in front of his face, “It almost worked too. What about you not hiding my gun properly, huh? Putting it in your pocket with your hand on it, like an asshole.”

 

“How was I supposed to know Tuco was forcing you to chauffer him to my house?”  


“At least he wants you alive,” he replied through clenched teeth. The older man sighed and it made him rest his chin in the cradle of his palms. “You didn't have to put your neck out like that, old man. He was ready to pistol whip you.”  


“I made a promise to keep you safe,” Mr. White confessed, “And letting you get shot in the middle of the desert is not how I plan on doing that.”  


He frowned. “Who'd you promise that to?”  


“Who do you think?” Mr. White dropped his head, his eyes showing signs of weariness, “When you were in the hospital, after Tuco beat you, I ran into Sebastian. He wasn't exactly _pleased_ by the situation. He made me promise to 'fix' this whole mess before he had to step in. I don't think he was bluffing.”

 

“He wasn't,” Jesse's lips turned up, “I don't know whether I'm relieved or pissed.”

 

“Is there any way...?” Mr. White glanced cautiously at Tio, “Is there any chance Sebastian will come here with all his well-armed biker buddies?”

 

“Not a single chance in hell.” It hurt to admit it but it was the truth. “My phone's destroyed. He could trace it but he wouldn't get nothin'. We're pretty much on our own.”  


“We'll need a better system in the future.”

 

“No fuckin' shit, man.”

 

***

 

Of course after Tio semi-ratted on them it was Jesse that Tuco went after. He dragged him outside through the dirt, jamming his knee into the boy's ribs before driving him up against the wall. It wasn't Mr. White who got roughed up. No, _Jesse_ was the expendable one. He was the one with the meaty hand around his throat, a fist in his gut, the one kicked across the ground before getting the muzzle of a gun shoved into the back of his head.

 

Tuco was shouting, demanding to know what they'd done.

 

Jesse felt something hot beneath his hand and started begging for his life, getting a good fake-sob on. He stayed on his hands and knees, fingers pushed through rocks and brick pieces for what he was sure would be his savior.

 

“We tried to poison you.” Mr. White dropped the hammer. “We tried to poison you...because you're an insane, degenerate piece of filth and you deserve to die.”

 

His hand closed around the barrel of Sebastian's gun. It didn't need a clip to be dangerous.

 

_“It's heavy. It won't kill him but it'll buy you time.”_

 

Jesse lunged up and cracked the dealer in the side of the head with the butt of the weapon, taking him down. He tackled Tuco, giving Mr. White a chance to grab the gun the dealer had dropped. But Tuco had a hundred pounds of muscle on him and he grappled like he was fighting the devil. They kicked up sand and rock, the bigger man determined to wrap his fat hands around his neck again. He couldn't get a real hold on him and he was losing fast.

 

Jesse tried to think of what Sebastian would do.

 

 

The blonde got thrown down like a fish, as if the guy was trying to stun him. He closed his eyes against the gleam of the sun and all he could see was Sebastian screaming at him, eyes wild and searing through him.

 

_Grab the God damn gun!_

 

Jesse reached around the dealer's waist and snagged the handle of his gun, yanking it out of his belt and jabbing it into his stomach. His finger squeezed the trigger before he could second guess himself. Blood poured over his fingers while Tuco gave an animalistic shout, rearing off him and clawing at his own gut. Jesse got to his feet, following the wounded man across the ground and kicking him as hard as he could.

 

“Who's the bitch now?!”

 

Looking at him writhing around in the dust, in a hole in the ground...Jesse couldn't kill him. He had the gun pointed right at his head but he couldn't pull the trigger again. It would end everything. It would save them both. But Mr. White didn't seem willing to do it either.

 

“Let him bleed.”

 

***

 

With Hank showing up, they did the only thing they could think of.

 

They ran for it.

 


	12. Season 2, Ep. 3: "Bit By a Dead Bee"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With no contact with either Mr. White or Sebastian, Jesse's falling hard.

**Just a reminder that I'm not trying to re-write episodes here, because that's boring. So you might be a little lost if you haven't seen the episodes. Netflix is free for a month, is all I'm saying.**

* * *

 

The timelessness that had surrounded them in the trunk followed them onto the road. They dragged their feet in an off-rhythm, throats dry and skin sizzling without protection. Though they were burn-out from what had gone down and fried under the sun, they talked about a plan to get them out of there.

 

***

 

Cops had swarmed his house.

 

“Man, they're like Jehovah witnesses. They don't give up. I don't get it, why don't they just kick your door down?”

 

“They need probable cause.”

 

“Probable cause? Yo, what'd you do, rob a bank?”

 

“I told you, Badger, this is serious shit. I'm, like, an outlaw.”

 

The police left the front of his house. He waited until they'd gone down the street before he pushed open the door.

 

“Let's do this.”

 

***

 

Badger was a mouthy, annoying piece of shit and Jesse would've given his left nut to have Sebastian there instead. His friend was making it abundantly clear that he didn't want to break down the lab. But he needed help packing the cook stuff up and this little asshole was all he had.

 

“Badger!” he finally snapped, barely restraining himself from grabbing the man's lapel and shaking him, “Don't...mess with me. _Got it?_ ”

 

***

 

Sebastian borrowed a police scanner from Happy and holed himself up in one of the offices in the back of the garage. He had his arms folded on top of the desk, chin resting upon those, the radio laying in front of him. He had set it to tick between the channel the metro flatfoots used and the one the DEA favored. He'd been listening for the better part of an hour in hopes of getting even a clue to where Jesse had gone to. Whether he was tuning in for a body or an arrest, he wasn't sure.

 

Jesse's name came up over DEA dispatch, followed by an address. A roach motel. Nicknamed _The Palace_.

 

***

 

The DEA busted in like the place was on fire. They swarmed the room, forced him on his stomach, and nearly dislocated both his arms shoving his wrists into cuffs. He didn't resist any more than he had to keep the charade up. He could feel the metal already cutting into his skin.

 

“I'm going, man, I'm going!” Jesse was pulled up onto his feet and pushed out of the room, sunlight hitting him right in the eyes, “What's goin' on, man? What'd I do?” 

 

He stumbled only to get shoved forward, sneakers skidding loudly off the hallway. He was 'produced' to the bald bastard he knew as Mr. White's brother-in-law, getting the same treatment he was sure long-hunted game got when they were shown to potential buyers.

 

“Jesse Pinkman, I presume?”

 

Jesse rolled his eyes and turned his head away, about to make a smart crack, but stopped. Across the street past the parking lot there was a familiar Harley mounted beside a street lamp. A tall figure of a man leaned against it, shades hiding his eyes as he appeared to watch the entire scene unfold. There was the makings of a beard on his chin and his leather-clad hands were shoved deep into his pockets.

 

Sebastian did not look happy.

 

 _God, baby, why are you here? What are you doing?_ Jesse sagged in the grip of the two officers. _Don't you think this is hard enough without you watching?_

 

***

 

“So who's your chief, little injun?”

 

“What? What does that even mean?”

 

“It means I think your story's bullshit. I think you knew who Tuco Salamanca was. I think your car was there 'cause you were there. Tuco had a bullet in him when we got there and I think you know something about that too.”

 

“What are you saying? I – I shot someone? With, like, a gun?”  


“You?” Hank's smile was slight, haunting, forced, “No. The only shootin' you do is into a Kleenex. But I think you know the badass who did.”

 

_Fuck you, asshole. I'm not this little bitch everyone thinks I am. Someone already got killed underestimating me. God, if you only knew. You. Fat. Fuck._

 

***

 

Jesse didn't know how, but they convinced Tuco's fucking _Tio_ to come in.

 

“Oh come on! This is bullshit! This dude doesn't even know what planet he's on!”

 

After almost two full heart-pounding minutes that rubbed his remaining nerves raw, Tuco's uncle didn't give up shit.

 

Well, not exactly. That was all he gave up.

 

He'd never wanted to throw up and laugh at the same time before.

 

***

 

They released him.

 

Jesse searched the street and parking lot for any signs of a Harley. There was no one who even remotely resembled Sebastian or any of his biker friends. No one to beat him up or greet him. He'd more than expected the man to be hiding out nearby to at least lecture him. Thankfully Wendy had lent him her phone. He texted Sebastian twice within five minutes, explaining that his phone got fucked up and that the police had brought him in on a misunderstanding.

 

He called but no one answered. He hung up and tried again, this time waiting long enough for the voicemail to kick him.

 

_'You didn't quite reach me. Leave a message.'_

 

“Hey, Seb.” He continued to scan the street. “I don't know if you got my texts but I'm on a friend's phone. I know you saw me earlier at that motel but, man, it's just a technicality. They trumped up some pot charges, possession and shit. Wendy's just a friend, we were just chilling. If you come pick me up from the station, I'll explain everything.”

 

He shoved his thumbnail between his teeth. “Dude, please? I'm starving and I'm tired. I've been through some fucked up shit. I need to see you.”

 

He hung up, tried one more time, and called it quits. If Seb wanted to talk to him, he would've answered by now. The man had never ignored his call before so this could only mean it was on purpose. So he sucked it up, lit a cigarette, and called his dad instead. He pled his case, embellished his situation, and prayed for the best. His dad wasn't taking the bait either.

 

After both his shots fell short, he handed Wendy back her phone.

 

“Thanks.” He put his hand on the pillar she was leaning against. “So...what are you doing now?”

 

Wendy shrugged, “Waffle house?”

 

He'd been sweating in the same clothes for almost three days, he stank to high heaven, and he hadn't felt this rejected in his recent memory.

 

“Waffle house sounds great.”

 

***

 

“Your psycho brother-in-law took my rainy-day fund.”

 

“ _Your what? What is that?_ ”

 

“My rainy day fund. Sixty-eight thousand, 'kay? Cueball son-of-a-bitch laughed in my face. Now I've got like eighty bucks to my name.”

 

“ _Wait, wait. Does he know it's your money?_ ”  


“No, man. He doesn't know shit.” He could still see the way the light reflected off Sebastian's sunglasses. How it hid his glower. “The plan worked. But I got bills due, I'm screwed.”

 

“ _Did he mention my name?_ ”

 

“No, but thanks _so much_ for caring.”

 

“ _What about the basement?_ ”

 

“It's clean.”

 

“ _And the RV?_ ”

 

“Badger's cousin took it to his garage. It's safe.”

 

“ _Can he get it running again?_ ”

 

“Yeah. Why?”

 

“ _So we can cook_.”

 

He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

 

“You still want to cook? Seriously?”

 

“ _What's changed, Jesse?_ ”

 

 

Jesse slammed the phone down as rough as he could without breaking it, lips pulled in a scowl. He tried to take deep breaths and count to ten (about three times). He waited out his anger before dialing again. He rested his elbow on the machine and ducked his head, trying to make himself look as small as possible. The voicemail picked up again. This would make two.

 

_'You didn't quite reach me. Leave a message.'_

 

“Hey baby,” he murmured into the receiver, “I'm still across town.”

 

 _It's kinda too far to walk and no bus runs, like, anywhere near my house,_ he wanted to say, but kept it to himself.

 

“It's gettin' late and I know you're probably gettin' high and ready to sleep this day off. God knows I am.” He rested his head on his arm. “Listen, Sebby...I know you're angry. You've gotta be fumin' by now. But it's no fun being mad alone so why don't you just pick up my fucking calls so you can yell at me. I'd like to at least hear your God damn voice after I almost – after I shot – ”

 

Jesse almost hung up but he stopped, took another breath.

 

“I'm not playing the victim and I'm not saying I'm a perfect little angel in all this,” he got out, much calmer this time. “I'm saying I still miss you and I want to know where we are because I'd really like to crawl into bed with you right now and sleep for two years.”

 

He got cut off again. He redialed and waited patiently for the message and the machine to beep.

 

“Seb, just ignore that last message,” he begged, eyes falling shut, “Or don't.”

 


	13. Season 2, Ep. 4: "Down"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse and Sebby kiss and make up.

Mr. White spotted him six hundred dollars but it wasn't enough, not by a long shot.

 

***

 

His parents were taking the house. They were taking his fucking house.

 

“I saw your basement. I was worried, so I went over there and I let myself in. And I found your...laboratory.”

 

“You guys have your own key?”

 

They even took pictures.

 

“Son. We can't stop you from ruining your own life, but you're not taking us down with you.”

 

Of course. The parental guilt trip all over again.

 

“Vacate the house in seventy-two hours. Otherwise, your parents have authorized me to call the authorities. Is that clear? Do you have any questions for us?”

 

No, he pretty much fucking got it.

 

“Three days, Mr. Pinkman.”  


***

 

When his mom showed up at his house (waking him up and shit), he tried everything he could think of to get her to change her mind about kicking him out. He hurried to cover up everything that he knew his mom would hate but had probably already seen.

 

“I've been thinking a lot about the, uh, conversation we had the other day. I totally understand why Dad totally tweaked off on me like that.”

 

She looked unimpressed. “It's not just your father, Jesse.”  


“I know, I know. But this has been kind, you know.” He rubbed the sleep from his face. “A wake up call. Which is why I wanted to talk to you. I've been thinking real seriously about, uh, about business school. Actually, you can do the whole thing from your computer.”

 

Why did everyone put him in this position? Why did they make him lie like this just to get a little God damn privacy? But she was shaking her head, tears welling up in her eyes.

 

“Mom, mom, please.” He touched her arms, trying to sound reassuring. “This is good, you know? We're talking. Starting a dialogue. We haven't talked since...since I was in high school. Did you know I'm seeing someone?” Her shoulders relaxed a little. “Yeah. We've been hooking up for a couple months. They're real good for me. I've been tryin' to stay out of trouble to keep-” He hesitated. “To keep her happy and safe, you know? I've been trying to protect her but I don't think I ever learned how to do that.”

 

He ran a hand through his hair.

 

_I should never have said all that out loud._

 

“The time for talking is over,” she warbled. “And if you're so concerned about this girl, maybe you should just leave. I hate to say this about my own son, but she'd be a lot safer if she wasn't involved in all _this_.”  


She waved her hand through the air, wedding ring gleaming in the sluice of sunlight the curtains let in.

 

“Dragging a poor girl down into the mud with you,” she tisked, “I thought I raised you better.”

 

That was a deliberate dig and it fucking hurt.

 

“Apparently not.”

 

Two men walked by, a piece of furniture between them.

 

“Hey!”

 

***

 

“Where am I supposed to go?”

 

“I don't know, sweetheart. But please...turn your life around.”

 

***

 

He gave in and called Mr. White, breaking their agreement.

 

“ _What_?”  


“Yo, I get I shouldn't call, but I'm in a situation over here and I need my money,” he explained, plastic phone creaking under his hand.

 

“ _I just gave you six hundred dollars_.”

 

“And thanks Daddy Warbucks, but my housing situation went completely testicular on me!” he barked into the receiver, a headache already forming behind his eyes. “Okay?”

 

“ _You smoked the whole six hundred, didn't you_?”

 

“What? No!”

 

“ _Yes_!”

 

“No!”

 

This was not a fucking debate.

 

“ _Look, Jesse, your problems are just that – your problems. If you're really having trouble, you have connections. I'm sure Sebastian can give you whatever you need_.”

 

He rubbed a thumb between his eyebrows, “Dude-”  


“ _No contact under any circumstances, ever. When the moment is right, I'll call you_.”

 

“Yo, you're not listening, Mr. White! I don't want to tell the dude I'm fucking-”

 

“ _No, no, no, Jesse. Good-bye_.”

 

“-that my parents kicked me out of my own house!” he shouted over the sound of the line clicking.

 

***

 

Everything he had left fit nice and neat into a crate. One, singular crate.

 

And no one would let him crash.

 

***

 

After he got another rejection and beat the piss out of the payphone outside the gas station, a sense of defeat came over him. Hands throbbing from smacking metal, he punched in Sebastin's number.

 

_'You didn't quite reach me. Leave a message.'_

 

“Come on, Seb, it's been four days.” He flexed his fingers, praying he hadn't crack any bones. “You don't have to look at me if you don't want to but I would really, _really_ appreciate it if you would – I don't know – _answer_ your own phone. Shit is falling apart, Seb. My _life_ is just coming down around me and it'd be nice to have you at my back. Or for you to tell me you don't. Something. Anything.”

 

He tapped his ring loudly against the siding.

 

“If I said I needed you, how pathetic would I be?” he clucked. “You know what? Don't answer that either.”

 

Jesse slapped the phone down on the hook. He rubbed the hurt from his hand and went around the corner, trying to think of anyone who owed him any favors. It took him way too long to realize that the space where he'd parked his bike was empty (except for the broken lock left abandoned in the middle of the space).

 

“You can't be serious. You _can't_ be _serious_!”

 

***

 

He wasn't calling Sebastian again. He couldn't. He had pride and shit.

 

Instead he climbed a fence, fell through the top of a porta-john, soaked himself in shit-eating juice, stumbled across a lot that he was technically trespassing on, and maybe-sorta cried and curled himself into a ball on top of a cardboard box.

 

But definitely not before shoving a gas mask on his face so he could sleep with the smell. For the love of Christ, he stank.

 

No. Pride and dignity and shit were _so much_ better than crawling back on his knees to the man who he was pretty sure he was in love with and who was pointedly cutting him out of his life.

 

At least he couldn't get any lower.

 

***

 

He was rudely woken up with a shotgun in his face.

 

“What the hell are you doing here? You smell like shit.”

 

He pushed the gas mask up to the top of his head.

 

“It's a long story.”

 

***

 

Jesse had tried. He had pulled out every trick he'd ever learned. He kissed ass, he promised interest, and he basically groveled at the man's feet. He'd even gone up to two thousand.

 

' _I really need a break here, okay?_ '

 

Badger's cousin had thrown him out on his ass, leaving him on the sidewalk stained in blue crap and penniless. He'd been locked out without as much as a moment of consideration. Jesse had contemplated breaking back inside and stealing the RV but the man watched him through the blinds. The dude would've shot him if he'd stood by the fence for another minute.

 

***

 

By the grace of God Himself, Jesse found a person at the bus stop who was willing to spare him enough fare to get him to Mr. White's house. He knew it was a bad idea but he didn't have a lot of other options. He hid behind a tree and waited patiently, trying his best to keep his composure. Eventually, the man walked down the driveway to put out the trash. He whistled and caught his attention. Mr. White spotted him and made a beeline toward him, face full of fury and pain that wasn't exactly directed at him.

 

“Yo, Mr. White, I know this isn't what we agreed on...”

 

“What are you doing here? Whyare you _blue_?”

 

“It's a long story.” He leaned heavily against the bark. “Listen, dude, I need two thousand dollars. Like, right now.”

 

Mr. White's stare grew harder.

 

“It's not for me!” he explained quickly. “Badger's cousin has the RV still. He fixed it and he'll let me drive off with it today if I give him two grand. Since I've got three bucks, maybe you could spot me the rest?”

 

“Jesse, just _stop_.” Mr. White held up his palms. “My wife will be up any minute and I need to fix things with her. I don't have time for this. I'm sure you have ways of getting money.”

 

“You're 'sure' of a lot of things about me, but they're really not true.” Jesse's teeth throbbed from how hard he was grinding them. “Half that shit's yours, man. I thought you'd be happy to jump in and, you know, get it the fuck back so we can cook again.”

 

“I'm not giving you anymore. This still sounds like a 'you' problem.”

 

“It's an 'us' problem, Mr. White!” Jesse snapped, “Or haven't you been paying attention?”

 

The man pinched the bridge of his nose, “You know who might have that kind of cash on hand?”  


“No,” Jesse paled, “No way, man.”  


“I'm sure it wouldn't take much,” the teacher's voice was still soft. “Ten minutes of... _performing_ should be efficient. Maybe not even that.”

 

“I don't fuck for money!” he barked, quickly getting hushed.

 

“Okay, okay!” Mr. White looked around for a nosy neighbor or maybe even his wife. “Just keep it down. I didn't mean anything by it.”

 

“You never do.” He grimaced as he caught another whiff of himself. “Seb and I have – _had –_ a good thing going and it doesn't involve asking for a shit ton of money out of the blue. He's not exactly excited about what we've been up to.”

 

“He knows?”

 

“Maybe he would if he'd answer the phone.” It was Jesse's turn to try and rub out a headache. “Please, Mr. White?”

 

“No, Jesse, I'm sorry.”

 

“Sure you are. Sure.”

 

“You need to leave now.”  


“I know the drill by now, fuckhead.”

 

***

 

Jesse trudged his way down the sidewalk, one goal in his mind. He ignored the looks and the snickers from the others, making sure to keep his distance from anyone else. He had no money and his stomach was growling. The few dollars in his wallet were ruined, the entire thing needed to be thrown out the moment he had a second to think about shit like that. His stomach was giving painful lurches of hunger and his head throbbed from the chemical stench and the three hours of sleep he got. He needed. He just _needed_.

 

By the time he pushed the button next to 'Kane' at Sebastian's apartment building, he was close to tears.

 

“ _Yes?_ ”

 

“It's me,” he rasped into the receiver.

 

A harsh buzz told him he was being let through. He climbed the stairs with leaden feet, his whole body throbbing in protest. He'd never all these things together before – light headed, ashamed, dizzy, nauseous, guilty, famished, exhausted. He wasn't sure if he was going to float away or sink down into the Earth. The chemicals were burning his nose and he was only on the second floor when he lost what little he'd eaten all over the steps.

 

“Fuck 'em.” He wiped his mouth and kept going, the nausea still there but with a new empty note to it. He got to Sebastian's door and barely managed to pound his fist against it a few times before his strength gave out. He stood there with his arm braced on the door, breaths tearing in and out of his lungs like sand paper as he tried to make the hallway stop spinning.

 

He was either too old or too young for this shit.

 

Jesse felt more than he heard the locks start to come undone. He barely managed to take a step back before it swung open on him.

 

“You went missing for almost two days,” Sebastian snarled, hands braced on the doorway. “You deliberately kept me out. You got arrested and I don't even know why!”

 

He felt like a child being scolded. “I...I called...”

 

“I've been waiting for you to man-up and come here,” Sebastian's arms crossed over his chest. “So if you don't start talking, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. For good, this time.”

 

Jesse felt his heart burst behind his ribs, the gooey ache of it seeping around his bones and oozing down into his stomach. It was one thing too many. A sob burst out of him, loud and ugly.

  
“Mr. White took my gun,” he blubbered out, “And we thought our dealer killed someone but he didn't and I still don't know who did it and I'm kinda freakin' out about that. The cops got on Tuco so he, like, fucking abducted us at gunpoint and shoved us in the trunk and I thought Mr. White was gonna die in there but he didn't and he was totally brave and smooth and I was the biggest fuck up ever. The guy took the gun and our phones and was three seconds from killing me _the whole time_. We made this poison stuff but Tuco wouldn't hit it so we tried to put it in his burrito but _Tio_ ratted us out so I _beat_ -” he mimed the way he smacked the dealer in the head with the butt of the gun, “-that fucker in the head and he tried to strangle me so I shot him.”

 

Jesse collapsed in a series of sobs this time, voice destroyed, “I got taken in and I lied out my ass but Mr. White still won't talk to me and his stupid brother-in-law took all my money. And he must'a talked to my parents too 'cause they kicked me out of my house and no one will let me stay with them. The RV's broke and I can't get it back until I have two grand and I can't make money until I get the RV and it's one twisted fucked up circle.”

 

He couldn't look at Sebastian, afraid of what he'd see.

 

“I didn't have anywhere to go so I broke into the lot and I fell into one of those fucking bathroom things.” He held out his blue-stained hands. “Badger's cousin kicked me out without even spraying me with a hose.”

 

He dug the clean edge of his sleeve into his eyes, unable to stop the tears now that they'd started.

 

“I'm so hungry and I had to sleep like this,” he whined. “I don't have any clean clothes and it's not just pot.”

 

Sebastian made a noise in the back of his throat. “What?”

 

Jesse could barely raise his head, finding shock in those Blue Magic colored eyes, “I'm sorry, Seb, it's not _just_ _pot_.”

 

Firm hands dragged him close into a hug, the man holding onto him despite the smell and the pathetic way he looked. Jesse melted just like he had every time before. The memory was pale in comparison to what he was feeling now. The smell, the solid touch...he'd missed this. Sebastian didn't let him hit the floor, even when his knees were ready to give up on him.

 

“Get in here, _dragă_.” Sebastian gently pulled him into the apartment. “Let me fix you up.”

 

“Please?”

 

“Shh.” A kiss was pressed to his temple. “I have you.”

 

***

 

That “mother hen” side he'd laughed at before came out full force. Sebastian ran him a hot bath and took his clothes to throw out, returning with industrial-strength soap he used when the grease and grime of the garage sunk too deep into his skin. The biker stayed visible from the open door, ready to come in if he broke down again. When the last of the blue and the smell of the toilet finally came off, Sebastian gave him clean clothes. They were warm, a size too big, and smelled like the biker.

 

While he was getting dressed he realized there something mouth-watering coming from the kitchen. He padded out there and was immediately told to sit. He guzzled down the water bottle waiting for him and waited sleepily until a bowl of meaty stew was put in front of him.

 

“Oh God,” he moaned, grabbing the spoon that had been laid out before and taking in as much as he could at a time.

 

“It's just comfort food, my Da used to make great batches of it and freeze it for days like this.” Sebastian nodded toward the stove where a large pot sat to heat up. “Thankfully I got into the habit. There's plenty.”

 

Jesse ate three bowls before he slowed down enough to breathe. Sebastian spooned him another helping and he grabbed the biker's hand, kissing the back of it to show his gratefulness. The man left and he ate alone, everything tasting like ambrosia. His mom's cooking had nothing on this. There was a faint beeping down the hall but he ignored it, instead he savored the feeling of a full stomach and the fact that he was dry and smelled good again.

 

“How much do you need?”

 

Jesse took the spoon out of his mouth and laid it back in the bowl, looking up as the man came closer. He had a thick wad of clipped cash in his hand. The blonde stood up, eyeing the money.

 

“What are you doin', Seb?” he asked lowly.

 

“I'm asking you how much you need.” Sebastian raised the wad. “I have eight thousand here and it's yours if you want it.”

 

He swallowed. “What do you want for it?”

 

Sebastian frowned.

 

“You've gotta want something in return.” Jesse reached out and started undoing the older man's belt. “Let me earn it.”

 

“Don't.” The money smacked to the floor as the man grabbed his hands and yanked them away. Jesse was backed up into the counter, trying not to meet the biker's eyes but failing miserably.

 

“Don't turn yourself into this.” Sebastian touched his cheek, running the tips of his fingers through blonde hair. “Who put this idea in your head?”

 

“Ever since my partner learned about us he keeps droppin' hints like you're my sugar daddy or something.” He shrugged. “I just want to earn my keep, man. Look what you're doing for me right now. You can't tell me I deserve this?”

 

“You're always going on about what you do or don't deserve, but it's not about that.” Sebastian dropped a soft peck on his lips. “I don't care what your _partner_ says or thinks. But you...I care very much about what goes on in your head. Is this all you think of me? That I wouldn't give you money if you didn't have sex with me first? Did you think I'd want you to earn every thousand by going down – by sucking – Jesus Christ, Jesse.”

 

Sebastian made a sour face. “I can't even say it. It's belittling. You're not a whore.”

 

“That's what I keep tellin' people! But everyone keeps insisting I'm some little bitch and maybe I started to think that...you know.” He calmed down, voice falling to a mumble. “That maybe I was.”

 

He snuffed, thumb brushing across his nose, “Yo, it's better that I make _myself_ a bitch than you, right?”

 

“You wanted to beat me to the strike?” He shook his head. “Your mind is an intricate clockwork of insanity.”

 

Jesse turned his head away, ready to make an excuse to bolt out of there and preserve whatever was left of his long overdue dignity. A kiss was dropped on his cheek, a hand laying itself along the side of his hip.

 

“Be grateful that our minds work the same.” Sebastian peppered more light kisses along his jaw. “I bet you could use a nap?”

 

“Seb-”

 

“No more fighting,” Sebastian stated, “Let me just enjoy you being back.”

 

***

 

Jesse almost fell asleep the moment his body hit the mattress. The biker shed his jeans and climbed in, laying on his side and dragging the blonde in until his back met his front.

 

“That's it.” Sebastian slid an arm beneath his head and the other around his waist. Jesse sighed, letting himself get manhandled until he had long fingers threading through his hair and a hot mouth against the back of his neck. His stomach was heavy with exhaustion and food. He was sinking and fast, but this time he wasn't scared. He wasn't going to wake up in a trunk or on Tuco's couch.

 

This place was felt just as safe as he remembered and just lying there, being there, was a load off his mind. The chaos that had been going on in his head, the disarray that only meth had been able to calm before, was gone. Smothered over, quieted. Now his world revolved around the hum of an air conditioner and filled with the fading sunlight that came through the window.

 

“We'll stop by the house to see if your parents left your clothes.” Sebastian's thumb traced over his belly button. “If not, I'll get them back from your mother.”

 

“Thanks, man.”

 

A few minutes ticked by, the older man's breath slowing down.

 

“I killed someone,” he said aloud, feeling compelled. “I shot him. Someone else finished him off, but he was already...”

 

“I know, _dragă._ ” Sebastian murmured something in what he was sure in Russian. “It's alright. We'll deal with it later. Until then, stay here with me.”

 

He couldn't turn down an offer so sweet.

 

***

 

They woke up in the middle of the night. They didn't know the time but they didn't care. Jesse sucked him off long and slow, popping off at the last minute with a more thorough request.

 

“You don't ever have to ask,” Sebastian whispered in his ear as he slipped two slick digits inside him, making it burn _so good_ , “Would you hate me if I said I couldn't stop thinking about you like this? All stretched out and sweet like this for me in my bed. I've missed your tight little hole.”

 

Jesse moaned loud enough to embarrass himself, face hot and hands wrapped up pillow case on either side of his head. A third finger slipped in, being careful.

 

“I kept thinking of what I wanted to do to you the moment I got my hands on you,” Sebastian nipped his ear. “I imagined fucking you on every surface at work. Over the pool table in front of the lads, on the leather couch in the club, even against my bike with the metal burning your hands. But then I realized something.”

 

Jesse’s thighs were hoisted up around the older man's waist, cock sliding over his sensitive skin before it started to ease inside. It was almost too big, too much. His eyes started to water. But it was fucking good.

 

“I realized I just wanted to have you here,” Sebastian rocked slowly, just brushing that spot and making him jolt, “I wanted to touch you again. I needed to know you were alright.”

 

“I'm here now.” Jesse caught his mouth in a biting kiss that made them both groan, “I ain't runnin' out on you anymore. Wouldn't get far. _Didn't_ get far.”

 

“I'm not going to let you go,” Sebastian laughed against his chin. “Not this time. Not ever again.”

 

Jesse was totally okay with that.

 

***

 

Sebastian drove him to Clovis' lot with a roar, gravel spitting up behind them before he came to a soft stop beside the awaiting RV. It was right where he'd left it. Jesse stepped swung off the Harley and shucked his helmet, clipping it to the back. The older man got off as well, surveying the area from behind his shades. He had decked himself out in his cut and jacket, feet covered in heavy leather riding boots. He struck an imposing figure.

 

“There he is.” Jesse nodded toward the large man approaching him, feeling his gut churn as if trying to reject the large breakfast his friend had forced upon him. “Act cool, man. Let me talk.”

 

Hands were shoved into pockets, making the leather bulge, “Mm-hmm.”

 

“Hey,” Jesse greeted, shielding his eyes from the sun.

 

“You got a lotta’ nerve showin' back up here, boy,” Clovis drawled, throwing his chin at the biker, “And you brought – what – some back up? This 'yer leather daddy come to kick my ass?”

 

“Nah, man, he just gave me a ride.” He glanced at Seb, the man's shoulders squaring like he was getting ready for a fight. “And I came back to pay.”

 

Clovis sucked air through his teeth. “Nah. I already called a friend of mine up. He priced it up.”

 

Jesse took the money clip from his pocket and held it out. “Here, man. This is for everything. The balance, the tow, the repairs. There's extra for the damages to the toilet and the day for holding it. I should've had the money yesterday and that's my fault.”

 

Clovis glanced at the clip, surprise showing up on his filthy face.

 

“My word is my bond,” Jesse stated, refusing to back down.

 

“How much is it?”

 

“Five grand.”

 

“No way.” The mechanic crossed his arms over his chest. “My man will pay double.”

 

“Your 'man' may have set his gear high, but he will only pay half,” Sebastian pushed his shades up into his hair, squinting at the bigger man, “Supply is high and risky but demand is low within in the city limits. Don't let your 'man' fool you with the sticker price.”

 

Jesse nodded, waving the wad, “He's not wrong, man.”

 

“And who are you?” Clovis grilled.

  
Sebastian shrugged with one shoulder and slid his shades back into place. “I'm his ride.”

 

Clovis took his time but eventually he agreed with a silent nod, taking the dough.

 

“So.” His shoes scuffed loudly in the gravel. “How much would you charge me to store this here?”

 

“A million and a half,” Clovis rattled off without pausing.

 

“Come on, yo.”

 

“Your sister.”

 

Sebastian made an impatient noise.

 

“Dawg, I'm serious,” Jesse countered, “I got storage needs and I got scratch – up front. We could, you know, negotiate.”

 

The man's lips pursed. “Five hundred.”

 

“A month?”

 

“A week.”

 

Jesse winced, rubbing the back of his head, “For real?”

 

“See ya.” He started to walk away.

 

“Wait.” Jesse moved in his way, “Hold on. Just chill.”

 

Sebastian stepped up to the blonde's side. “Two-fifty.”

 

Clovis scoffed, “You're gonna let pretty boy here do all your deals for you?”

 

_If he gets it done for me, hell yeah._

 

“Two-fifty a week and he gets to keep it inside.”

 

“Outside.”

 

“No way in hell.” the sunglasses came off again, this time his gaze in full ice-mode. “From what I hear your fence is stupidly easy to scale. Your security is lax, at best. The RV stays behind the padlock.”

 

“I'll throw in an extra fifty a month for gate privileges,” Jesse added.

 

“Come again?”

 

“Gate,” Jesse repeated, “In and out, privileges.”

 

Clovis looked like he was going to say no but his gaze went to Sebastian's jacket, eyes dancing from patch to patch with a thickening air of uncertainty.

 

“Month to month, cash up front, inside.” Clovis broke down like a well-oiled gun and it made the dealer want to punch the air in triumph. “I don't know you, and I don't know jack. Got it.”

 

“Deal,” Jesse took out a wad and counted out five hundred, handing them over. While Clovis was re-counting them, he spotted a blue impala that looked to be in pretty good shape. He caught Seb's eye and nodded toward it, making a _why not?_ face.

 

“You sellin' that?” Jesse pointed, trying to sound casual.

 

Clovis didn't even look up from the money. “Nine g's and it's yours.”

 

Jesse gave a long-suffering sigh, readying himself for another round of haggling. Sebastian came between them, producing a neat silver-clasped wad of money that had some kind of business card hooked in.

 

“How about this,” Sebastian started, each word clipped in that strange accent of his, “I give you ten and you send it to this shop for repairs and paint, no questions asked.”

 

The mechanic was confused. “A whole grand to pawn it off on someone else?”

 

“No.” Sebastian's grin was all shark. “You take this grand and stop giving my boy shit. Deal?”

 

Clovis didn't even bother to size him up this time. “Deal.”

 

***

 

Clovis went back inside his office-trailer, leaving Jesse on the bottom steps of the RV and Sebastian straddling his bike.

 

“I'm going to go talk to a few friends and see if I can find you a new place,” Sebastian tucked his shades into his pocket and unhooked his helmet, “Somewhere cash-only who won't fuck you over.”

 

“Cool.” It was beyond that, it was incredible. “Yo, I'll pay you back for the car the moment I can.”

 

“Don't bother.” Sebastian waved it off. “Consider it a late birthday gift.”

 

“Early, actually.”

 

“Early, then,” he chuckled, “Where are you heading?”

 

“I'm gonna drive Big Bertha here over to Mr. Heisenburg's house.”

  
Sebastian tisked. “You mean Mr. White?”

 

 _Shit_.

 

“Heisenburg?”

 

“White.”

 

“Alright, _White_. But don't tell him I told you. I'm gonna drive it over and we're gonna talk about setting up shop again. I might be back late.”

 

“I'll wait up,” Sebastian checked to make sure Clovis was still inside before he shot the blonde a smirk, “Your sweet ass belongs in my home until I say otherwise, alright?”

 

“Whoa, dawg,” Jesse threw up his hands, laughing, “I don't dig possessive guys.”

 

He winked. “Too bad. I'll see you later.”

 

***

 

“To come to _my_ house and park on _my_ street, driving _this_ vehicle – I mean, what the hell is wrong with you?” Mr. White barked in his face, “I'm really asking.”

 

“Nothing. I'm sorry, I just-”

 

“What if Skylar had seen you? What was the plan then, genius? Hm?”

 

“I-I don't know.”

 

“You don't know? You know why you don't know? Because you don't think!” he got in his space, gesturing sharply enough for Jesse to think every move was a move to take a swing at him, “You never learned how to think, did you Pinkman?”

 

“I said I was sorry, yo. I just need my half of the money and I will go!” Jesse promised, “I borrowed way too much from Seb to get the RV out and I need to pay him back. Like, soon.”

 

“Your half?” Mr. White seethed, “There is no 'your half' of the money! There is only my 'all of it'. Do you understand? Why should I be penalized because of your sloppiness?”

 

He shoved him so hard he almost lost his footing.

 

“That's bullshit! We agreed, fifty-fifty partners.”

 

“Partners in what? What exactly do you do here? I've been meaning to ask. Because I'm the producer, right? I cook. But from what I can tell, you're just a drug addict who apparently can't work his sugar daddy correctly. I thought boys like you just _knew_ how to get what they needed but, apparently, they were giving that skill the day they were handing out brains.”

 

Tears burned his eyes but he kept them down.

 

“You are a pathetic, stupid junkie. Too _stupid_ to follow rudimentary instructions. Too stupid to-”

 

Jesse wasn't sure what came over him but he pounced on the old man, taking him to the floor. He wrapped his hands around Mr. White's neck in the way that Tuco had done to him, vision tunneling out until all he could see was the man's reddening face and all he could hear was the word _stupid_ echoing between his ears. He wanted to pound his face in but he couldn't do it. The man had fucking cancer, for Christ's sake.

 

“Do it,” Mr. White choked out.

 

He couldn't. He lowered his fist.

 

***

 

The bag of money sat on the counter between them.

 

“You want some breakfast?”

* * *

**And THAT, boys and girls, is where I stopped writing about 10 weeks ago. Now is just new material. Hopefully these chapters bought me another week before you guys feel the itch to have more. Look out for a new fic soon, though I'm not sure if those of you reading this fandom will like it.**

**But most importantly - feedback, my loves. Tell me what you think. Is there anything specific you want to see? I have an outline done for the next few episodes and this fic will only go (I think) into the middle of season 3. So...ten more chapters? Twelve? I dunno. Some. There's _more_. **

 


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